


Shipper on Deck

by Veldritch



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Divorce, Drug Addiction, Evil Corporations, F/M, Friendship, Giant Robots, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 88,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldritch/pseuds/Veldritch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abed and Rachel team up to try to solve the group’s tangled romantic lives. This results in hook ups, break ups, an intervention, a divorce, a marriage, and ultimately a giant robot battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suspiciously Similar Substitute

**Author's Note:**

> I began binge-watching Community last fall, and the month they’re taking off for the Olympics is the longest I’ve gone without Community since I started it. So I thought, let’s write some fan fiction during the interim to keep myself amused. When I first came up with this idea, I did not seriously think that Dan Harmon would bring Rachel back. I’m rather thrilled that he did, but that means that, since she’s so new, my version of her is going to be at least partially an OC. AU after season five, episode six.
> 
> This is also my first time writing fan fiction in years, so comments and critiques are appreciated.

When Ben Chang walked into the study room the Monday after midterms, he was met by an unexpected and upsetting sight.

            “Who is _that_?” he snapped, pointing at the chair he’d occupied just the week before. A blonde, bespectacled young woman was sitting there, nose half-buried in what looked like a hilariously awful teen romance novel.

            “This is Rachel,” Abed explained. “I talked her into joining the Save Greendale Committee. She thinks we should remove the lockers and invest in a coat room.”

            “Well, she’s in my seat, so have her _move_.” Chang circled the table, shoulders hunched, peering suspiciously at the newcomer.

            Rachel lowered her book and looked at the math instructor askance. “This is your spot?”

            “You’re darn right it’s—”

            “It’s Troy’s spot,” Abed interjected before Chang could continue. He seemed oblivious to the short man’s growing irritation. “I thought Rachel should get it, since she’s my new friend.”

            Chang scowled. “I knew it! I _knew_ you guys would never _really_ let me in your group!”

            “Oh for crying out loud, calm down!” Jeff and the rest of the group – Duncan and Hickey included – were in their usual spots, and Jeff in his usual posture, arms folded, leaning back in his chair and attempting to look like he didn’t care about what was going on. “Nobody’s kicking you out, you just need to get another chair and squeeze in.”

            Chang didn’t look as though he was much relieved, but he did duck out of the room to find a chair. While he was gone, Annie looked around at the now-crowded table. “Maybe we should think of finding another place to meet. Something a little bigger.”

            “That man is _not_ squeezing in next to me,” Shirley added.

            “Guys, we just rebuilt this table, we’re not leaving it now. Besides,” Jeff continued, “It’s not as if Greendale is overflowing with suitable meeting areas.”

            Annie’s eyes lit up, and she quickly wrote that onto one of her pile of multicolored task stars. The rest of the group noticed and everyone other than Rachel let out a little groan. Rachel arched a quizzical eyebrow at Abed.

            “Annie likes to fix things,” Abed told her, and Rachel gave him a nod before marking her place and tucking her book under the table.

            Chang, meanwhile, returned with a large cushioned chair, barely managing to maneuver it through the doorway of the study room. He started to push it towards Annie and Shirley, but Jeff caught Shirley’s panicked look and he nudged Professor Duncan to scoot over.

            “You cannot be serious,” his friend muttered, but Jeff gave him a glare, and he rolled his eyes. Chang looked more than a bit satisfied to be at the head of the table.

            “This is great,” he beamed. “Here with all my friends, sitting with my fellow professors…”

            “You’re an _instructor_ ,” Duncan corrected. “I seem to recall you faking your degree, and an incident in the parking lot with Jeff’s car…?”

            “Hey! I’m as much a professor as _Winger_ is!”

            “Hey!”

            “Oh chill it, Mr. Cool, you know the only reason you have this job is because the Dean wants to—”

            “Guys!” Britta interrupted. “Let’s focus on what we’re here for: improving our school for everyone.”

            Abed frowned. “Wait, are you and Annie switching bodies? Troy and I already tried that, we don’t want to start repeating plots, even if it’s our fifth year.”

            “Hey, can’t I be _legitimately_ _concerned_ about something? I’m Britta, that’s one of my things.” She cleared her throat. “Also, I kind of need to make it back in time to watch _Sleepy Hollow_.”

            “Oh my God that show is so good!” Annie squealed.

            “Isn’t it?” Shirley agreed. “When I first saw the trailers I thought it was going to be the dumbest show ever made.”

            “Precisely!” Duncan grinned. “Everything about it should be a total disaster, yet somehow---”

            “It works!” they all said in chorus.

            Jeff rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, they made Ichabod Crane British for no good reason!”

            Duncan peered past Chang to look fiercely at Jeff. “And what, pray tell, is wrong with that?”

            “He’s an American icon!”

            Rachel leaned over and whispered to Abed, “Is it _always_ like this?”

            He nodded. “You’ll get used to it. It was even worse back when we were actually trying to study.”

            Shirley noticed the two of them leaning together and a knowing smile crept across her face. “Abed,” she said in a singsong voice, “Do you have anything to tell us about Rachel?”

            Abed furrowed his brow. “I already told you, she’s my new friend and she wants to help the committee.”

            “Are you sure there’s not anything else~~~?”

            “Shirley!” Annie elbowed her friend. “Ixnay on the ippingshay.”

            “Oh, are you shipping us?”

            Annie shifted awkwardly at Rachel’s flatly-asked question. “Oh, no, just, well, Abed’s probably the only person in the group to have not dated anyone since he’s been here and…”

            “ _And_ ,” Jeff interrupted (a lot of that going around), “it’s none of our business, so let’s _get back to the agenda_ , shall we?”

            Hickey cleared his throat, and everyone suddenly looked in his direction. “Well, the bulletin board’s already filled up,” and here Annie started clapping softly and bouncing slightly in her seat, “though the custodians have been leaving some threatening notes on my door.”

            “That is such bull!” Britta declared. “That kind of corruption is part of what turned public opinion against unions, which is a major contributing factor to the increase in income inequality—”

            “Excuse me, miss, not that I don’t agree, but I wasn’t finished talking yet,” Hickey growled. Britta’s mouth opened and closed silently like a goldfish, and she sat back in her chair, a little embarrassed. “I say, let ’em fume. The janitors have been polishing my floor, they’re so damn pleased with me and Miss Edison’s little rebellion.”

            “That’s excellent news!” Annie drew a thick line through _Fix bulletin board_ in her massive stack of paper. “And how did clean up after the dance go?”

            “Well,” Duncan coughed, “Once the rioting had stopped, we managed to get a nice bonfire going. Apparently everyone was in a good mood to set bears on fire…”

            “I SWEAR I FORGOT!” Everyone flinched as Chang screamed. “GOD, STOP MAKING ME PAY FOR MY PAST CRIMES! _I JUST WANT TO HELP!!_ ”

            “Chang, if you’re not going to stay chill, then we really _will_ kick you out,” Jeff snapped.

            Chang folded his arms and slouched in his chair, which, since it was already lower than the rest of the study room seats, meant he could barely be seen over the edge of the table.

            “Okay, so if we’ve finished with old business, let’s move on to some new!” Annie stood up and walked around the table, handing out papers to each of the group. Most of them became immediately absorbed in looking at the fliers, but Rachel caught Jeff’s very brief, slightly guilty glance at Annie’s cleavage as she gave him his paper with a smile. She decided to file it away to ask Abed about later.

            “As you all know, the dean let our fire alarms fall a little out of repair…”

            “She means most of them are fake,” Abed explained to Rachel.

            “…so I thought we could hold a fundraiser to replace them! I was thinking a dance at first, but we just had one. In hindsight, we probably should have combined them…”

            “…But this issue came to prominent attention after the alarms did _not_ go off during our little bonfire.” Duncan shuddered slightly. “I have _never_ seen so many enraged students.”

            “That’s right,” Jeff grinned, “you weren’t here at Starburns’ funeral. That made the Bear Dance Panic look like kumbaya around a campfire.”

            Duncan arched his eyebrows. “Oh?”

            “Moving on,” Annie continued loudly, “if anyone has any _other_ ideas for raising money, I think we could use this meeting to brainstorm. I already have five, which I can write on the chalkboard here…”

            Annie moved their accomplished task stars to the “done” side of her wall, then erased the strange note “Six seasons and a movie!” that seemed to appear every week, and began scribbling furiously on the board. _All fired up! (pottery sale), Douse the flames! (water balloon fight)_...as she wrote, her back to the group, Rachel again noted Jeff taking surreptitious glances at Annie’s slightly jiggling posterior.

            To be fair to him, though, Chang and Duncan were downright ogling her.

            Rachel hesitantly raised a hand. “I know I’m new here and everything, but I think—” When she saw everyone in the group turn to look at her in unison (even Chang peeked out over the table edge), Rachel felt her resolve fade. She looked a little frantically at Abed, who just gave her a smile and a nod. She took a deep breath. “Maybe we shouldn’t actually _mention_ fire in promotions? Our school _does_ tend to panic easily.”

            “And we just had this year’s campus-wide apocalyptic meltdown, so I am vetoing the water balloon fight right now.”

            “Oh really? And when did _you_ get veto power, Jeff?”

            “Oh come on, Annie, I’ve been this group’s de facto leader since first year.”

            Now it was Britta’s turn to disagree, a snarky grin on her face. “Oh _really_? I don’t remember us _electing_ you. When did we become a dictatorship?”

            “Good God, you people!” Hickey once again managed to shut them all up with one gravelly sentence. “How the hell do you manage to get anything done with all this sniping and bitching?”

            “Britta has a point, though,” Shirley said. “If we’re a committee now and not just a study group, maybe we should hold elections for the chair?”

            “Who votes for Annie?” Abed asked loudly. Every hand at the table went up except for Jeff’s. Annie looked slightly disappointed at that, and he finally sighed loudly and raised his hand as well.

            “So it’s unanimous!” Annie said with a big smile. “And don’t worry, Jeff, we’ll vote on all the ideas when we’re done, and your vote will count just as much as everyone else’s.”

            The meeting went on for another half an hour, and they finally settled on a “Bake it, don’t burn it” bake sale, thanks to Shirley’s strong lobbying. As the group filed out, most of them talking excitedly about what new insanity _Sleepy Hollow_ would bring that night, Rachel grabbed Abed’s sleeve and held him back.

            “Hey, is it okay if I ask a few questions?”

            “Shoot.”

            “Is Chang actually insane?”

            “Probably. But we figure that making him feel a part of things keeps him from being evil.”

           “Note to self: play along then. So, what does the dean want to do with Jeff?” Rachel paused and blinked. “Wait, saying it out loud, I think I already know. Don’t answer.”

            “Anything else?”

            “Okay, what about Jeff and Annie?”

            “What about them?”

            “They seem to have a bit of… how do I put this...?”

            Abed nodded knowingly. “Unresolved sexual tension. Everybody notices it. The first year, Jeff spent most of his time torn between Britta and Professor Slater – she disappeared the summer before you enrolled – and didn’t notice that Annie had a crush on him. Pretty much the moment he did, they made out, then he claimed it didn’t mean anything, then she punched him, then—”

            “So it’s a will-they-won’t-they?”

            “No, it’s a more subtle ship tease than that. They both have had legitimate reasons to not want to be in a relationship with each other.”

            “‘Have had’? Interesting choice of tense.”

            “Well, Annie’s not a teenager any more, Jeff’s generally less of a jerk, and they do tend to pair up at any excuse.”

            “Yeah, they knocked me down in the first fifteen minutes of the Floor is Lava.” Rachel peered down the hall, noticing that Annie and Jeff were straggling a little behind the others, chatting and laughing. “So…what do you think?”

            “About?”

            “About shipping them.”

            Abed blinked. “What?”

            “I think we should hook them up. Ship teases get annoying if they go on too long, and you’re saying it’s been almost four years.”

            Abed shook his head. “Annie and I made a pact to not manipulate our friends any more. Plus, I think they’d both resist if we tried to push it.”

            Rachel pursed her lips, and the two began walking out of the building together. “I guess I’m still new to this group.”

            “That’s fine. We’ve got a complicated love dodecahedron going on. Annie’s had bits of ship tease with almost everyone. Even me.”

            Rachel failed to contain a laugh. Abed cocked his head inquisitively, and she shrugged. “Well, I guess I could see it happening.”

            “Not as long as Jeff’s around. Besides, I don’t think I’m ready to date yet. Not the way Annie would want to.”

            “You’ll get there.”

            Abed smiled. “Thanks.”

            They’d reached the main entrance, and Rachel thumbed to the left. “My bike’s over there, so I guess this is good night.”

            “See you tomorrow morning,” Abed replied, and tapped her chest while tapping his. When Rachel gave him a somewhat aghast look, Abed’s brow furrowed. “It’s my special friend handshake. You do the same back to me.”

            “You did this with Troy?”

            “Of course.”

            “I don’t think it will work with me.”

            “Why not?”

            “I have boobs.”

            “Oh. Right. Well, we can adjust it. Good night.” He turned and walked off to wherever he’d left his bike, leaving Rachel with a concerned look flitting around her face.

 

When Rachel arrived at the school the next morning, she met up with Abed at the library. He’d said he had a special event planned for them. She didn’t know what to expect. She had a vague hope that it might be a surprise party to welcome her to the group. Rachel had felt like an interloper at their committee meeting, clueless as to what made this extremely odd – yet very intriguing – group of people function.

            What she found, though, was two high stools propped in the middle of the room. Abed was perched on one seat with a cup of coffee, and a twin cup was waiting on the other. On the sofa sat Neil and Vicki, with stacks of D&D manuals on their laps. She’s been friendly acquaintances – not really good friends, but Rachel didn’t have many of those – with the nerd couple, and it occurred to her that Abed might be trying to befriend them as well, to help her feel more comfortable.

            Instead, Abed gave her an almost creepily cheerful smile and gestured to the stool next to him. “I’m glad you made it, Rachel! We were just about ready to start without you.”

            She set down her bag, picked up the coffee cup gingerly (it was still hot) and sat on the stool. “So what are we doing?”

            “Shh!” He whispered. “We’re about to roll in three…two…one…”

            Rachel didn’t see a camera, but was able to figure out on her own that this was one of Abed’s awesome meta games. She stuck a matching smile on her face and turned to the imaginary cameras.

            “Rachel and Abed in the mo~~~~~rning!” Abed said in a singsong voice. He then frowned a little and hissed in her ear, “You have to say it with me.”

            “Gotcha,” Rachel hissed back, and he gave another countdown, and in chorus they sang “Rachel and Abed in the mo~~~~rning.” There was something off about it, though; he was saying her name awfully fast, slurring the syllables together to make it match the tune.

            “So Rachel, are you excited for our guests this morning?”

            “I sure am Abed!” She might as well play along. Abed’s ideas were usually fun.

            “Why don’t you introduce them for us?”

            “Well, we have with us today Neil and Vicki, founders of the Greendale Roleplaying Guild!” She turned to them. “That _is_ why you’re here, right?”

            “Rachel, stay in character,” Abed muttered under his breath.

            “Yeah, it is,” said Neil, the two of them getting up and standing next to Rachel and Abed.

            Abed was back to his charmer smile. “Neil and Vicki are here to promote their new club and maybe get some new members.”

            “Yeah, but, um, we thought there would be _cameras_ here, for the school webpage or something…”

            Abed gave a canned laugh. “Oh Neil, you’re such a prankster. Tell me, Rachel, have you ever played D&D?”

            “In high school, once. Wouldn’t mind playing again, though. When do you meet, Neil?”

            “Okay, seriously, you guys, are you actually going to promote our club? Because we got up really early to be here…”

            “Yeah, Abed,” Rachel whispered, out of character. “I kind of want to know what’s going on here too. Was I supposed to have brought AV equipment?”

            “No. This is just the fake talk show Troy and I would do for fun. _Most_ guests really got into it.”

            “Oh.” Rachel tried to get back into character, smiling and turning towards the camera, but she couldn’t do it. She frowned and said to their guests, “Neil, Vicki, would you give us a minute?”

            “Okay. But if you’re really interested, we meet on Thursdays at 6 pm.”

            Once they’d left the room, Abed dropped character as well. “I don’t understand. Why aren’t you playing along?”

            “Because this is something you and Troy did together. Just like the handshake from yesterday.”

            “Right. And you’re my new friend now, so I want to do those things with you.”

            “But you can’t, Abed.”

            He thought hard for a moment. “The handshake thing I get. That could be awkward. But ‘Troy and Abed in the Morning’ is an institution. We have to keep it going.”

            “Abed, I want to be your friend. You’re cool to hang out with. I can actually talk to you without having to edit the tropes out of my vocabulary. But I can’t replace Troy.”

            “Why not?”

            “When one character leaves a show and another character comes in to take their place, what happens?”

            Abed thought again, and she could see a dawning understanding in his eyes. “Replacement scrappy.”

            “Exactly. You can’t have a new character completely replace another.”

            “What about Professor Hickey? He’s done a good job filling in Pierce’s spot in the group so far.”

            “That’s because he fills Pierce’s function as the older outsider in the group. I think. I was never clear why you guys hung around with Pierce. I guess you had to be a part of the group to get it. But Hickey’s not the _same_ as Pierce. He’s not racist, he’s much more cynical, and he doesn’t hit on everyone.”

            “So you mean that you can fill Troy’s function as my friend that I do cool things with, but it can’t be the same things?”

            “Exactly.”

            Abed paused to think for a third time, and this time it lasted half a minute. “But who’s going to be the slightly book-dumb jokester in our group without Troy?”

            “I don’t know. Maybe Duncan or Chang. Maybe nobody. Maybe we’re all just waiting for Troy to come back.”

            Abed nodded. “I am.”

            “I actually wish I’d gotten to know Troy before he left. He sounds like a great guy.”

            “He is. And you will. He’ll come back, he promised.”

            Abed and Rachel shared a smile, shier and more genuine than the ones they’d faked for the fake cameras. Shirley might be shipping them, but neither of them was actually good at anything beyond “friends.”

            Abed was the one broke the silence. “I wonder what Troy’s up to now.”

 

On a boat in the Gulf of Mexico, Troy watched with a sinking heart as the _Childish Tycoon_ was scrubbed off the back of the boat and painted over with the name _Niño Rico_ , which he couldn’t read because Señor Chang was a total fraud and Troy hated him _so much_ right now. Levar Burton was sitting on the deck of the pirate ship next to him, and Troy felt like he’s let him down, and that was the _worst thing ever_ because he was Levar Burton and Troy never wanted to let Levar Burton down.

            Also, it turned out Johnny Depp had lied to him, because pirates were completely uncool.

            “This was not in my contract,” Burton sighed.

            “I am so sorry.”

            “Not your fault.” He saw Troy’s stricken face and put an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, don’t worry so much. It’ll be all right. I’m a celebrity. They’ll send someone to rescue us.”

            One of the pirates blushed slightly and handed a notebook to Burton. After he signed it, the pirate looked at the signature and shook his head. “ _No, firma ‘Geordi LaForge’_.”

            Burton gave a long, long sigh.


	2. Innocent Cohabitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The issue of a third roommate will actually be the plot of an upcoming episode. It will undoubtedly be much better than mine, and I will look back on this chapter with shame. In the meantime, though...

Annie was in full panic mode by the time Abed came back from his not-a-date ( _so_ a date! Annie couldn’t help herself, she wanted Abed to be happy) at the movies with Rachel. Her receipt box was emptied all across the kitchen table, and she’d been pulling her hair enough that it was starting to stick out.

            Abed took in the situation with a glance. “You’re panicking. Don’t panic.”

            “No, Abed, this is the time to panic! I’ve been going over our bills the whole afternoon, and the only way we can afford this apartment without Troy is if we decide to stop eating. I can’t stop eating Abed, can you?”

            Abed shrugged. “Or we find a third roommate.”

            “Who, Abed? Rachel? I barely know her!”

            “Hmm, and she doesn’t want to replace Troy either. What about Britta?”

            “I called her. She said the memories of Troy would be too painful.”

            “Shirley?”

            “Has kids.”

            “Jeff?”

            “Don’t joke, Abed.”

            “I wasn’t. You like him.”

            “Well, yes, but do _you_ want to live with Jeff?”

            “Hmm. Somebody new?”

            “Can they handle you?”

            “Well, I’m out of ideas. What do you think we should do?”

            Annie looked about ready to cry. “I think we can’t stay here,” and she dropped her head into her arms with a moan of despair.

            Abed contemplated the appropriate response and decided to pat her on the shoulder. “There there,” he said, in monotone. “It will be okay.”

            “But I _like_ this apartment! All my stuff is here! And on my own I’ll have to go back to somewhere like my old apartment where I have twenty locks and hear gunshots outside my window and the store under me sells nothing but porn and sex toys!”

            “We could find a place together.”

            “Oh Abed, would you?” Annie stopped. “Wait, no. What about when Troy comes back?”

            “He’ll be a millionaire. I’ve just assumed we’ll move into a mansion together. Preferably one with a giant ball pit to jump in.”

            That made Annie laugh a little. “I wouldn’t _mind_ still living with you. But from our rent, together we can only afford something that’s like $450 a month. I’ve been looking online, and there’s nowhere in town that you can get a two-bedroom apartment for that kind of money. Unless it’s over a Dildopolis.”

            Annie watched the gears whir in Abed’s head as he stared at the ceiling. “New plan. I move back with my dad—”

            “Abed, you don’t have to—”

            “No, it’s cool. He’s been offering me a part-time job at the falafel stand if I move back home. I could use the money for some of my projects.”

            “He won’t hire you unless you move back?”

            “He’s been worried about me. I was pretty withdrawn after graduation, when I couldn’t find work.”

            Annie awwed at him, and patted his hand. “You’ve been feeling better lately, though, right? Because of Rachel…?”

            “She’s a good friend. Not as good as Troy, but I think it’s maybe okay to have more than one good friend.”

            “It totally is,” Annie agreed. _Especially when she’s a cute girl, and is Abed actually straight? I’ve never asked him…_ “But if you move back with your dad, that leaves me alone.”

            “Then you get a roommate. Move in with Britta.”

            Annie cringed enough that even Abed could tell that idea wasn’t in the realm of possibility.

            “What’s wrong with Britta?”

            “Nothing! I love Britta. But… I love Britta in small doses? Also, I’ve been to her apartment, we have very different standards of what counts as ‘clean.’”

            “That could be a problem.”

            “It could.”

            “Well. You and Professor Hickey had that billboard installed. Use it.”

            “You mean… put up a notice for a roommate? Won’t I get a lot of crazy people?”

            “I think you can handle the interviews. You’re tough, Annie.”

            She smiled with a sense of relief at Abed’s confidence in her. “Well, all right. But… don’t move back yet, okay? It might take some time to find someone, and we’ve got until the end of this month before we have to start starving ourselves.”

 

Annie spent the next week juggling two sets of phone calls. On her cell, she was recruiting anyone she could find for the fire alarm bake sale. On their landline she was handling the influx of calls about a roommate.

            “Ugh!” she gasped, exasperated, as she slammed down the phone.

            “Another pervert?” Abed asked, not looking up from his comic book.

            “I _swear_ , it’s more than _half my calls_! Why do I attract so many creeps?”

            Abed considered answering, but decided it would be inappropriate to detail Annie’s physical assets when they were only friends. Apparently women got very upset when you did that, and he was trying hard to learn these little details.

            “Do you have any leads?” he asked instead.

            “Three so far. I’ll be meeting them in the next couple of days.”

            “Good luck.” Abed turned a page, blinked, and tossed the comic across the room before storming into his mini-Dreamatorium.

            Annie barely noticed. She was used to this kind of reaction since the New 52.

 

The bake sale was underway, and things were going smoothly. Shirley had wound up baking about a third of the goods on their tables, but Annie had been pleasantly surprised by how many other people pitched in. It was inspiring to see that people actually cared about their school… or maybe just their safety. When even Professor Hickey dropped off a plate of muffins, dismissing it as a need to use up some ingredients before they went bad, Annie’s heart almost swelled to bursting.

            Almost, because try as she might to be upbeat about the prospect of functioning fire alarms, Annie’s mind kept swirling back to her apartment hunt. About halfway through the sale she turned things over to Shirley and slipped out of the busy cafeteria to one of the supply closets.

            She found it occupied. Jeff was lying on the floor, eyes closed, with a jacket folded up under his head. Annie rolled her eyes and poked him with her toe. “Jeff, you promised you’d at least make a showing at the sale!”

            “I did. Right at the beginning.”

            “Yeah, for like two minutes.”

            “Cut me some slack, okay?” He rubbed his temples. “I’ve got a headache.”

            Annie looked worried. “Migraines?”

            “Hangover.”

            “Oh. Serves you right then.”

            “Hey, Ms. Caroline Decker from Corpus Christi, I seem to remember _you_ getting just as plastered as the rest of us.”

            “Well, I’ve learned some control since then.”

            Jeff popped an eye open. “Really? You drink? And appletinis do not count”

            “I’m going to be twenty-three in December, Jeff, so yes, and appletinis do too count.” Annie sat down on the floor next to him. “I’m available for drinks any time. You obviously need someone to cut you off.”

            “I made the mistake of trying to keep up with Duncan. Word of advice? Never go ‘pub crawling.’ It’s British for ‘get so wasted you piss your pants and start singing God Save the Queen.’”

            Annie giggled, softly, because really, Jeff looked like he was in a lot of pain.

            “So what makes Annie Edison hide in a closet?”

            “Oh, I’m just worried about things.”

            “Things?”

            Annie fidgeted. “Well, I’ve been looking for a roommate…”

            Jeff sat up sharply, then winced, regretting it. “Did something happen with you and Abed?”

           “Troy moved out. Taking more than a third of our rent with him. Abed thinks he can move back in with his dad, and I want a better place than what I can afford right now.”

            “Had any luck?”

            “I had a few bites. And they seem nice. I’m not _entirely_ comfortable moving in with someone who isn’t a friend. But…”

            Jeff arched an eyebrow at her hesitation. “Annie, if you’re trying to not make me worry, you are failing spectacularly.”

            “Before any of them agree, they want an apartment actually picked out. I’d _like_ to stay in our old place, but I asked about their budgets, and even though they’re all better off financially then me, I’m still going to have to downgrade slightly.”

            “Annie,” Jeff took a deep breath. “If you need any extra money…”

            “What, you have loads on a community college instructor’s salary?”

            “More than you. If it’s the difference of, I dunno, thirty dollars a month, I’d be willing to lend a hand.”

            “Jeff, I can’t take money from you. What if something happens to you? What if you move or get a job offer somewhere else?”

            Jeff sighed and slumped back down to lying on the floor. “Suit yourself. Offer for help is always open.”

            “Thanks,” Annie smiled. “That actually makes me feel better. I think I may be up for the bake sale now.”

            Jeff waved her away. “And turn off the light as you go out.”

 

Abed was the one who first suggested the idea. “Jeff should take you apartment hunting.”

            Jeff and Annie had decided to take Rachel out with Abed for pizza, to help integrate her more into their group. Well, actually, _Annie_ had decided, and Jeff had reluctantly agreed after repeatedly reminding her that meddling was bad. “I’m not trying to set them up,” she’d assured him, even though she knew a teensy bit of her was. She really did have to ask Abed about his orientation at some point. “I just want Rachel to fit in. She’s obviously important to Abed – as a friend!”

            Annie hadn’t meant to start complaining about apartment hunting, but her POS car had broken down that summer, and while the buses were pretty good in Greendale, it took so much time and so much walking.

            “Jeff wants to help,” Abed explained slowly, after Jeff and Annie didn’t respond immediately. “Jeff also has a car. Annie is sick of taking buses. Jeff can drive you anywhere you want to check out. It’ll be faster and easier. Besides. You and Jeff tend to do really well whenever you team up. Debate, the newspaper, the murdered yams, the ass-crack bandit, the Floor is Lava…”

            “I have so much catching up to do,” Rachel said drily.

            “We _do_ have a pretty intense continuity.”

            “Well…” said Annie, hesitantly, “It actually _does_ make sense.”

            “It makes perfect sense,” said Jeff, without a bit of hesitation. “You need an apartment to get a roommate, we will get you an apartment.”

            Annie beamed at him and Jeff smiled awkwardly back. Rachel nudged Abed under the table and jerked her head towards them. Abed shook his head in a quick “no.”

            “Rules for riding in the Lexus,” Jeff began. “No food, no drink, no throwing up, no scratching the seats, no Taylor Swift on the radio…”

 

Five apartments in, Jeff was badgering Annie to take money from him again. “These places are shitholes Annie.”

            “Jeff! Language!”

            “They are. They’re not poopholes or crapholes, they are absolute sh—”

            The building manager rapped on the door as he came back in. The apartment was technically listed as a two-bedroom, but the bedrooms were barely larger than walk-in closets, and the kitchen appliances looked as though they hadn’t been replaced since the seventies. When the refrigerator had begun humming, they’d had to raise their voices to talk over it. About the only thing it had going for it was the nice hardwood floor.

            “What do you think? I know the appliances are a little old, but they’ve stayed running, and none of our previous tenants have had any problems.”

            Annie was about ready to say yes just to end the ordeal, but Jeff cut her off. “Do you have anything that’s a little _bigger_?”

            The manager was a large man, with a handlebar mustache like something out of a silent film. Jeff had been fighting the urge to laugh since he’d opened the doors for them. When he was thinking, like right now, the mustache twitched, and Jeff had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from cracking up.

            “We only have one place that’s larger. It’s not in your price range, however. It’s a little under seven hundred.”

            “We’ll look at it.”

            “Jeff!”

            “Annie, you need to at least see what a better option looks like. It’ll raise your standards.”

            “I don’t _want_ my standards raised, Jeff. It’ll…it’ll just be disappointing.”

            “Annie.” Jeff took her by the shoulders and looked at her very intently. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’re all concerned for you. You’re frugal and that is awesome and it will probably save Greendale, but you deserve to live somewhere better than this. The seven hundred dollar apartment is what you compromise _down_ from.”

            They’d been talking quietly enough that the manager couldn’t make out what they were saying. He craned his neck, mustache twitching. “Well?”

            Annie kept Jeff’s gaze for a while before closely her eyes and shrugging. “Oh, what the hey. Let’s see it.”

           The larger apartment had an open main room that was as large as the one Annie had shared with Troy and Abed. The galley kitchen had new appliances, so clean they sparkled. The manager opened the doors to the bedrooms on the left, but Annie’s attention was completely taken by something at the far end of the room.

            “It has a _balcony_!”

            Opening the sliding doors, Annie stepped out into the crisp autumn air.

            Jeff poked his head out and immediately pulled it back in. “It’s a little cold, don’t you think?”

            “It’s _amazing_ , Jeff! I’ve always wanted a balcony where I could grow things and hang laundry. You’ve never wanted one?”

            Jeff thought about it. “Well, it might be nice for grilling in the summer.”

            “Do you want to see the bedrooms?” the manager asked. Annie seemed to have completely forgotten about her budget as she nodded eagerly and almost skipped back inside. Jeff was glad to see her happy, but a little cash register in his mind was going _kaching_ with every glance around the room. It was a ridiculously nice place. If he only made a little more at Greendale, he’d take it himself.

            One of the bedrooms was about fifty percent larger than the other, able to house a queen-size bed while the other could probably manage only a twin. Both had windows (it was a corner apartment) and sizable closet space. The manager had clearly noticed how excited Annie was getting and began a bit of a pitch as they went back into the main room.

            “This kind of apartment is definitely in high demand. You’re lucky to catch it while it’s still on the market. I know the second bedroom is small, but I think it would be perfect for children, if you’re planning on any in the future.”

            Jeff almost choked, and Annie laughed. “Oh no, we’re not—” but then she got a look. Jeff knew that look. It was her “I have an idea, and I’m not going to take no for an answer” look. She grabbed his elbow. “Could you excuse us for a moment?”

            “Annie…”

            She pulled him into the smaller bedroom. “Jeff, how much is your rent?”

            “About five-fifty a month.”

            “Mine’s two-thirty.”

            “Annie…”

            “Do you like this apartment?”

            “ _Annie_ …”

            “Jeff? I want your complete honesty.”

            She was giving him the Disney eyes. He _hated_ it when she gave him the Disney eyes. “It’s…kind of an amazing place, I’ll give it that. I wouldn’t mind living here, if I could afford it. Which I can’t. _And neither can you._ ”

            “Jeff. Listen to me. I am in love with this apartment. This is my dream apartment. I _neeeeeed_ this apartment. And I can’t afford it on my own, or with any of the people who replied to my roommate request. Also, I didn’t like any of them as much as you.”

            “Annie, think about this for a second. You’d be rooming with _me_. I am fairly certain that our friendship rests on you only have a vague idea of how much time I spend on my hair in the morning.”

            “Jeff, I… I actually shot you down as a potential roommate for moving in with me and Abed—”

            “Thank you for that.”

            “But I… I want this apartment _so bad_. And we’re friends. Abed’s right, we work well together. So unless you’re hiding something worse than having a box of trophies from the women you slept with, I think I can handle any other revelations.” She gave him a sideways look. “You’re not, are you?”

            “I can assure you that when Pierce went digging for our darkest, dirtiest secrets, he very definitely found mine.”

            “Then what’s the matter? If we pool our resources, we can afford this apartment with a little to spare. It… it might actually be kind of fun living with you. It was definitely fun living with Troy and Abed.” She swayed back and forth, her eyes taking in the room. “Can’t you see us living here?”

            And he could. He really could. He briefly visualized all of Annie’s things moved into this bedroom or out into the main room, with his stuff next door. His TV would go perfectly against the windowless wall across from the kitchen. He could imagine them hanging out together, sharing recipes, fighting over who got the bathroom first in the morning (him; this hair took a long time to perfect). It was a surprisingly agreeable idea.

            No way was he letting her know that.

            “No, I can’t.”

            “Aw, why not?”

            “Well, let’s start. First, I’m not just your friend, I’m your _teacher_. I don’t know how many rules it would violate for us to be living together, but I’m sure it’s a lot.”

            “We wouldn’t really be ‘living together,’ though. Just… living in the same apartment.”

            “Yeah, but believe me, people are already talking.”

            “So? Let them talk. Unless…you think they’re right.” She gave him an accusing look. “You think we really are just repressing a lot of sexual tension?”

            “Of course not! But us affording this apartment – _if_ we moved in, which we won’t – is dependent on me having a job, and me having a job is dependent on me not being perceived as the gross professor sleeping with his younger student. Listen,” he gave her a serious look. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend more time around you, or that I don’t love this apartment, but this is a disaster waiting to happen, and _stop that right now!_ ”

            She was giving him the eyes again.

            “You know every time you use that, it’s less effective, right?”

            Annie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you think we can’t keep a tiny little secret or that if we live together somehow that will turn us into horny coeds, then yeah, I’ll pass on this apartment. I’ll take the place we just looked at instead.”

            She turned and started resolutely towards the door, and Jeff knew she actually meant it. The sunny pictures of them in what he was increasingly thinking of as the World’s Greatest Apartment were replaced by images of Annie in the cramped, noisy World’s Worst Apartment, and _damn it_ she was good at guilt-tripping him.

            “Wait!!” Annie stopped and turned to him expectantly. “We can keep looking for other places. You can keep looking for someone who can help you afford this place.”

            “I’m tired of looking, Jeff, and it was hard finding even the three people who met with me. The last one may not be great, but it’s the best I can do with what I have.”

            They had a long staring match, as Jeff silently fumed and Annie stood her ground, arms folded.

            He finally sighed. “You should’ve been a lawyer.”

            Annie squealed, jumped up and down a few times and hugged him. “You won’t regret this.” She ran out into the main room and declared gleefully, “We’ll take it.”

 

They had to tell the former study group, mostly because they needed help moving. When they’d invited them over to Annie and Abed’s place, sitting around the table (trying not to think that the last time they’d done this, there had been seven of them rather than five), they broke the news gingerly.

            “Cool,” said Abed. “I’d ask you to just move in with Annie and me, but it seems the apartment is the motivating factor in your decision. It makes practical sense. Can I ask a few friends to help?”

            “Um, sure, I guess,” answered Jeff. “Who were you thinking of?”    

            “Rachel, definitely. Maybe Neil and Vicki. I owe them an apology.”

            “I don’t know about this,” Shirley had a concerned expression. “Two of my best friends, living in sin…”

            “We’re not ‘living in sin,’ Shirley. Jeff and I will have completely separate bedrooms.” She smiled and wiggled her shoulders a bit. “I’m already working out a bathroom-sharing schedule. I had such a good time rooming with Troy and Abed, this is going to be fun.”

            “Yeah, but Troy and Abed were different,” said Britta. “I mean… I hate to bring up old news, but you and Jeff had a… thing back when you were students.”

            “No, we didn’t!” Jeff protested.

            “You made out!”

            “Three-and-a-half years ago. Annie made out with Abed less than six months before they moved in together, and you didn’t protest then.”

            “Well, yeah, but Abed…”

            Abed gave her a questioning look.

            “…had Troy living with him!” she quickly finished. “Like, as a chaperone.”

            “We’ll be _fine_ , Britta,” Annie assured her. “Jeff and I are both adults. We know that things could go wrong, but we both can deal with it if it does. Besides,” and her eyes went a little starry, “you need to see this apartment, Britta, it’s the greatest place _ever_.”

            Abed indeed recruited Rachel, Neil, and Vicki to help move Annie’s things to the new apartment. He swore the couple to a vow of secrecy, hand on the Player’s Manual, may they get natural ones forever if they told any faculty. In exchange, he offered to make them a real promotional video for the AV club’s webpage. Jeff, meanwhile, forked over the cash to hire a few laborers of indeterminate immigration status to move his things, since the TV set alone was an awkward size. Annie was abuzz the whole time, directing furniture.

            “Does this look good here, Jeff?”

            “Um…”

            “I think it looks good here!”

            They’d finished moving most of the furniture when there was a knock on the door. It was Shirley, and Annie gave her a big hug as she came into the apartment. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you move, but I had to pick up my boys…” Behind her, Elijah, Jordan, and Ben waved at Annie. “And I can’t stay for too long, because Andre has them tonight.”

            “We understand, Shirley. Come in, have some pizza, and take a look around.”

            Shirley’s boys raced in to the table where the recently-delivered pizza boxes were open. Their mother looked around the apartment a little suspiciously. “It’s a very nice place, Annie.”

            “Thank you! This is the main area, the bathroom’s over by the kitchen on the left, and the bedrooms are past that.”

            Shirley peeked inside, and looked pleased. “Oh. You really are in separate rooms.”

            “Duh-doy! We keep telling you, Jeff and I are just friends.”

            There was another ring of their doorbell, and this time Jeff opened it. Britta was standing on the other side, a bit of a sour look on her face.

            “What’s wrong, Britta? Swallow a bug on the way here?”

            “Haha, Jeff. Just because you all are convinced this is a great idea doesn’t mean I have to play along.” She walked into the apartment and her jaw dropped. “Holy crap, this place is amazing!”

            “Isn’t it?” Annie squeed. “ _Now_ do you see why we made these arrangements?”

            “I guess…” Britta mumbled. “Ooh, is that pizza? I so have the munnnn…hey Shirley!”

            “Hello, Britta. What were you saying?”

            “Nothing!” She shoved a piece of pizza in her mouth and tried to look innocent.

            True to her prediction, Shirley didn’t stay long. She gave Annie and Jeff a hug (“Don’t you dare try anything with our Annie, you hear?” she grumbled quietly in Jeff’s ear) and corralled her sons out of the apartment.

            Britta was at the table, going through her fifth slice of pizza. “I’m amazed that Shirley was so okay with your…‘arrangement’.”

            “Shirley understands our financial situation,” Annie replied primly.

            “You _could_ have found a place without moving in with Jeff.”

            “I took her apartment hunting, Britta. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to live in the places she could afford.”

            “I lived in huts with dirt floors when I was in the Peace Corps.”

            “How is that different from what your apartment looks like now?”

            “Are you insulting how I live, Jeff? Because you weren’t complaining every time you came over back in second year.”

            “Oh please, Britta! Like you didn’t insult my place just as much.”

            “I insulted you having a bathroom with its own separate cabinet for hair products. _Which_ I noticed you still have. Seriously, Annie, you really want to _live_ with him?”

            “Yes!” Annie yelled. Everyone looked a little startled, particularly Jeff. “Yes, I do, okay? Because this apartment is great and because I can’t afford it, and because living with my friends is something I happen to enjoy. I’d be staying with Abed if I could. So please stop being so critical, okay? I want your support.”

            Britta looked aghast at the rest of her gathered friends. “Am I the _only_ one who thinks this is a terrible idea? Like, the worst idea we’ve ever had? Worse even than that time we took a balloon ride?”

            Jeff, Annie, and Abed shuddered in unison. When Rachel opened her mouth to inquire, Abed shook his head sharply. “Don’t ask. _Ever_.”

            “Britta,” Jeff began. “This may not be the perfect solution, but it’s the best we could come up with. So… stop worrying about us.”

            Britta fidgeted uncomfortably. “I wasn’t worried, I just…” She looked at Annie again. “Okay, maybe I am a little worried. But…” She shook her head. “You know what? Forget about it. If it goes wrong, that’ll happen, and I’ll get to say I told you so.” She stood up and grabbed her coat and purse. “I’m heading home. Man, I so need a toke right now.”

            When she slammed the door on her way out, Annie looked distraught, Jeff looked embarrassed, Abed was his usual curious self, but everyone else looked seriously tense. Rachel tried to catch Abed’s eye, but he was watching his two friends like a hawk. The subject clearly needed to be changed, and quickly. “Vicki! Neil! Did you bring any roleplaying stuff?”

            Neil’s face lit up. “I’ve got the start of some character sheets we could finish quickly.” He shared an anxious glance with Vicki. “We could all play, right? Get our mind off things?”

            “That sounds great! Abed makes an awesome GM.” Annie started to clear things off the coffee table in their TV area. “I always wanted to try doing this again.”

            “Okay. Well, I’ve got a half-elf ranger, a human paladin, a half-orc barbarian…”

            “Ooh, are those the ones that get to go berserk and kill everything? I’ve always wanted to try that.”

            “Well, it’s a male character, but we could switch that.”

            “Annie is disturbingly good at playing male characters,” said Jeff.

            The session was a little awkward at first, but over the course of several hours, Annie’s barbarian slaughtered scores of goblins, Jeff’s wizard managed to lose several fingers from misfired spells, Vicki’s animal companion achieved a divine rank, Duquesne became king of the realm, and Rachel’s character died three times. Neil finally signaled Abed to call it to a close as it went past ten and he saw Vicki starting to yawn.

            Annie and Jeff thanked everyone for their help as they showed them out the door. Vicki and Neil walked down the hall together, holding hands, with Rachel and Abed walking a little behind.

            “Are you going to be okay alone in the apartment tonight?”

            “It’s just for one night.”

            “You can crash on my couch if you want to.”

            Abed considered it. “Thanks. I think I will.”

            “Can I ask you something?”   

            “Yes?”

            “Were you planning this when you told them to go apartment hunting together?”

            “No, I don’t do that anymore. I just thought Jeff could help her. And he did. Not the way I expected, though.” Abed peered at Rachel. “Do you think we should do something? You were the one who proposed shipping them in the first place, and a shared apartment is classic romcom material.”

            Rachel glanced over her shoulder back at the apartment. “I think…”

            Abed arched an eyebrow.

            “I think we need to get Britta a boyfriend.”

 

Troy was feeling seasick as the pirate vessel swayed back and forth. LeVar was holding up better than him – and he’d told him to start calling him LeVar, so he must not have blamed Troy for everything that happened, which made Troy so relieved – and Troy edged across the floor towards him, hampered by the ropes tied around their ankles and wrists. “Hey,” he whispered, “You got any escape plans?”

            “Yes. Waiting for someone to rescue us.”

            “It’s been two weeks, LeVar.” Troy still grinned every time he said that. LeVar! “I don’t know if anybody’s coming. I mean, I will always be your biggest fan, but you’re not, like, Patrick Stewart. He’s friends with _Gandalf_.”

            LeVar gave him a dirty look for that, but it faded into one that was more resigned. “You may be right. Give it a few more days. I’ll…I’ll start thinking of something.”


	3. Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mild spoilers for "The Dark Knight Rises."

Britta remembered a time when she was actually coordinated, and took dance lessons. Now, she sometimes had trouble not walking into doors. Also, trouble remembering her notes, the names of her teachers, and what day of the week it was. This had been a gradual thing for a while now, but it had gotten really bad recently, and she couldn’t blame it on the gas leak anymore.

            Maybe that also explained why she seemed to be randomly running into people all the time.

            The first was on the Monday after they’d moved Jeff and Annie into that new apartment… which she was not envious of! At all! Even if having a balcony might be awesome, because seriously, who _doesn’t_ want one of those? Anyway, she was coming out of the grocery store, carrying two very full bags (reusable, of course; plastic bags are the environment’s Kryptonite), when a car alarm started going off not far from her. Startled, she turned to look at it and ran straight into another customer.

            “Oh God, I am so sorry!” she gasped, as her groceries went spilling onto the parking lot.

            “No, it was my fault,” he said, with a rather sexy Latin accent. “Here, let me help you.”

            “Oh.” Britta blushed a little. “Thank you.”

            “You have beautiful eyes.”

            “Oh!”

            “Just like my wife’s.”

            “Oh.”

 

The second time was at a Starbucks. Britta always felt conflicted about Starbucks. On the one hand, they were a merciless conglomerate intent on eradicating all local stores and achieving a corpocratic monopoly on the coffee world. On the other hand, they _did_ provide health insurance for all their employees, even the part time workers. So she compromised by always ordering their Fair Trade option, even if it didn’t taste as good as the ones farmed by slave labor in Africa.

            As she went to her table, “Roxanne” started playing on someone’s laptop across the crowded room. Britta looked around to see who was a fellow fan, and wound up spilling half her cup as she collided with a customer.

            “Oh crap, I hope I didn’t burn you.”

            “It appears to have missed me. Are you all right?”

            “Oh. Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m just fine. Hey, that accent, are you from Britain?”

            “Yes indeed. Just in town for a conference. Is that a Fair Trade brand?”

            “It is!”

            “Wonderful! Always good to meet someone who cares about social justice.”

            “I know? My friends are always getting on my case, but this stuff is _important!_ ”

            To put it the way he did, they spent the afternoon shagging, but unfortunately he left the next day, heading back to the UK. Britta saw him off at the Denver airport. She sent him a Friend request – he never replied back.

            _Bugger_.

 

The Save Greendale Committee had decided to make the theme of this year’s Halloween party be The Return of the Black Mold. Annie wasn’t going to let another chance to fundraise go by, and they decided a two dollar cover charge would be about right. “We couldn’t raise it to five?”

            “Annie,” Jeff had explained, “you’re at a school whose main attraction is that it costs $64 a credit to go here. We’re all either cheapskates or broke.”

            So two dollars it was, and Britta was helping Annie hang up the fliers that depicted a menacing mold monster threatening the school. Hickey had actually volunteered to draw it without any wheedling from Annie. Apparently the guy was a frustrated comic book artist. Well, he could at least draw mold monsters pretty well.

            Britta was absorbed in determining what her costume would be this year when the Greendale Human Being leaped out from a doorway and shouted boo. She shrieked and jumped back from the uncanny mascot, right into David, the bald, biracial, rather built guy who she’d thought had graduated two years ago. Her papers went flying.

            “Damn it, do _not_ do that!” she swore at the Human Being, as it dashed off down the corridor.

            “You need a hand?” David had a low voice…yeah, he definitely resembled Michael Chiklis a little. Not that that was a bad thing.

            “If you could.” As they started gathering up the papers, she asked him, “Didn’t you graduate already?”

            “Yes. In plumbing. I was hired to fix the bathrooms in the West building.”

            “Oh, thank God that’s actually happening. Maybe this committee is actually going to get something done.”

            “Committee?”

            “The Save Greendale Committee. Cheesy, I know, but somebody’s got to rescue this dump.”

            David glowered. “If you want to think of it as a dump, that’s fine, but I owe my career to this place. Here’s your papers.”

            He thrust them unceremoniously into her hands and marched off. Britta gaped for a moment before fuming. “Yeesh, somebody’s got issues.”

 

The Halloween party was always an interesting way to gauge the state of the former-study-now-committee group. Jeff and Annie had successfully planned a matching costume set; she was going to be Catwoman, he was going to be Bruce Wayne (Batman was Abed’s thing, and Jeff identified more with the handsome billionaire playboy anyway). Abed immediately nixed that by pointing out that if they wanted to keep their cohabitation a secret from the faculty, it might not be a good idea to draw attention to themselves as a “couple.” So Jeff added a martini glass to the suit and decided he was James Bond, while Annie joined Abed and Rachel to be the three villains of _The Dark Knight Rises_ , Catwoman, Bane, and (spoilers!!) Talia Al’Ghul respectively. Abed’s costume was detailed and his voice accurate enough that most of the other party-goers steered clear of him throughout the night. He and Rachel played their parts to the T, as she stroked his ventilation grill and purred in Marion Cotilliard’s accent.

            Shirley tried to opt out of a costume for that year. “I’m sorry sweetie,” she apologized to Annie, “but with the store and shuttling the boys back between me and Andre’s place, I haven’t had time to make anything.”

            “Well, we could, um…” Annie thought hard. “Oh, I know! Let’s ask Professor Garrity if we can borrow a costume.”

            They went with a generic ball gown from last year’s production of _Cinderella_ , which had been cancelled halfway through its first performance due to a cease-and-desist from the Walt Disney Corporation. Shirley managed to squeeze into the dress with a few alterations, and she seemed genuinely happy with it.

            Britta came dressed as a robot, of the clunky box-shaped variety. Her face was painted silver, and she was having trouble moving the arms and legs, which were made out of large accordion tubing. Abed and Rachel had suggested it.

            Duncan was dressed as Captain America, which Jeff immediately protested. “Oh sod off, Winger,” his old friend barked back. “You’re stealing one of my country’s icons, I get to steal one back.”

            “Need I remind you that you already stole Ichabod Crane?”

            “Crane was a pansy! We did you a favor making him British!”

            “Hey! Pansy is a gay slur!”

            “Oh stuff it, Britta.” Duncan pulled out a bottle from his pocket and took a swig.

            “You brought your own booze?”

            “Yes, Jeff, I did. Because your little girlfriend wouldn’t let us have liquor at this party.”

            “Annie’s not my girlfriend. Plus, a third of the people here are underage.”

            “And the rest of us have to suffer for it, is that right?”

            “Ugh, I need some fresh air,” Britta groaned, waddling towards the exit.

            “She is so hot,” Duncan declared once she was far enough away, a look half love stricken, half lusty on his face. “I would most definitely tap that if I wasn’t her advisor.”

            “Okay, first, ew. Second, in _that_ costume?”

            “ _Especially_ in that costume. The more they hide the sexier they are.”

            “Maybe you should move to Afghanistan.”

            “Oh, real funny, Jeff. You know they don’t allow alcohol there.”

            Shirley had taken a seat at one of the sofas that were pushed to the sides of library. She was a little winded – the costume was not built for a woman with real curves – and checked her phone for messages from Andre. She always worried about her boys when they stayed with him. Andre was a good man, mostly, but she hated to be separated from them.

            Annie sat down across from her. “These heels are killing me. How did Anne Hathaway do it?”

            “You look very pretty, Annie.”

            “Thanks! So do you, Shirley.”

            Britta had reentered the room, and beelined to a student carrying a platter of Halloween cookies. She managed to grab one and munch it down, but on the second try she hit the plate instead, sending cookies flying into his face. “I am so sorry!”

            “It’s okay,” Shirley heard him reply.

            Shirley frowned as she watched the exchange. “That woman needs help.”

            “Shirley! Don’t be so judgmental!”

            “I am _not_ being judgmental!”

            “Who’s Shirley being judgmental about?”

            “Nobody!” she snapped as Jeff sat down next to Annie, twirling his martini glass.

            “She said Britta needs help.”

            “She does!” Shirley gulped. “I…I’ve never told you this, but before I found Jesus, I… well, I had a bit of a drinking problem. More like a huge drinking problem. I drank _so_ much—”

            “We get it, Shirley.”

            “Well, I look at Britta and I suppose I see myself. She’s got herself a problem, only with the weed.”

            “Wait, Britta smokes marijuana?!”

            “Annie, we’ve mentioned it several times in your presence. You should know this already.”

            “But… why haven’t we stopped her?”

            “Because it’s just weed, Annie, it’s not a big deal. It’s pretty mild, not any worse than alco…okay, Shirley may have a point.”

            “Oh my God, Britta is a drug addict?! Why do so many of us have drug problems?!”

            “Look, if Britta wants help, she’ll ask for it.”

            “Says the only person sitting here who’s never been addicted to anything. We need to give her an intervention, Jeff.”

            “Right, because those have worked _so_ well for us in the past.”

            “I don’t know, Jeff.” Shirley looked sadly at where Britta was fumbling to pick up the cookies, shoving a few in her mouth as she did. “She needs somebody to step in. She’s an atheist, so we can’t count on her getting saved like I was.”

            “Do you want her winding up like Pierce?” Annie asked, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

            “You really know how to dig up my buried guilt, don’t you?” Jeff sighed in frustration. “Fine, we’ll have a talk with her. We’re not getting Duncan involved this time, though. He’ll just try to hump her leg.”

            “Yay!” Annie jumped up from the couch. “Let’s go talk to her!”

            “Now?!”

            “Sooner the better, Jeffrey,” Shirley said as she rose, the seams of her costume straining. “I’ve seen _Reefer Madness_ , that girl could jump out a window.”

            Jeff folded his arms and refused to join them as they swung over to Britta in unison.

            “Britta~~” Shirley sang. “We couldn’t help but notice you’ve been awfully hungry lately. Are you eating enough at home?”

            Her mouth stuffed with cookie, Britta brushed crumbs off her face and hastily swallowed. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine, just, uh, need calories to burn when I carry my protest placards. You know me!”

            Annie hooked her elbow through one of Britta’s arms, and Shirley took the other. “You’ve been kind of scattered lately too. Is there anything bothering you?”

            Britta gave a forced laugh. “Oh, Annie, you worry too much!”

            They brought her over to the couch and sat her down between them opposite Jeff. He just shook his head. “I’m not going to be involved in this.”

            “Involved in _what_?”

            “Britta,” Annie said, taking her friend’s hand. “We know about your… problem.”

            “Problem?” Britta thought back about the questions they asked – hungry, scattered – and started laughing. “Oh God, no, I’m not pregnant!”

            “We mean the weed, Britta.”

            “Ugh, Shirley, don’t be a narc. So I have a smoke every once in a while, it’s no big deal.”

            “‘Every once in a while’? How many times a day do you go out for some ‘fresh air’? Don’t think I’m stupid, girl.”

            “Okay, so I may have been smoking more than usual lately, but I’ve been super stressed with coming back to school.”

            “That’s the same excuse I used with Adderall. Relying on drugs can’t fix your underlying problems.”

            Britta looked between them sharply. “Wait, is this an _intervention_?”

            “No!” Shirley and Annie said together.

            “Yes,” Jeff retorted. The three of them all looked at him quickly. “It’s an intervention. They are intervening. Because you are smoking way too much pot and it’s making you stupid.”

            Britta gaped. “Okay, Shirley and Annie I get, but _you_ don’t get to ride my case! I know for a fact you’ve smoked pot, we did it together once!”

            Annie and Shirley gasped in shock.

            He rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, get over it you two, half the country’s smoked pot at some point or another. I don’t give a crap about that. I just hate seeing one of my friends turn into a klutzy moron because she spends half the day high. You’ve got to either pull back or quit altogether.”

            Britta looked like she was about to yell at him again, but her lip suddenly started to quiver. “You…you’re worried about me, Jeff?”

            He shifted uncomfortably. “Come on, Britta, we fight all the time, but you know we’re friends.”

            “No, I mean _you_ are worried about me? Like, the guy who only gets worried when things are getting seriously bad and you have to give an inspiring speech to snap us all out of it?” Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh crap, I really _do_ have a problem.”

            “Aw, Britta, it’s okay. We’ve all done stupid stuff with pharmaceuticals at some point.”

            “Annie, you are the best friend ever!” Britta hugged her as she they both started to cry a little.

            “Ooh!” said Duncan, as he walked towards the couch. “Do I see a little experimentation going on here?”    

            “Duncan, I swear to God, if you do not walk away, I will punch you and feel no guilt.”

            “Not if I get to him first,” Shirley lifted her giant purse menacingly. He turned heel and walked away quickly.

            Britta pulled away and grabbed some orange and black napkins to wipe away tears. Silver paint came off with them, leaving her face with weird streaks. “Ugh, am I going to have to drop out and go to rehab or some BS?”

            “Rehab can be helpful—”

            “But I stopped drinking without it,” Shirley added. “With the help of friends. They poured all my alcohol down the drains and kept a close eye on me.”

            “Pot-dumping party? Pot-dumping party? Pot-dumping party?”

            “Yes, Annie, we’ll have a pot-dumping party. Just stop doing that say-it-three-times thing.”

            “Pfft, Jeff, you think it’s cute and you know it!”

            Shirley raised her eyebrows. “Uh, Annie…?”

            “Yes?”

            “…never mind.”

            “This explains so much, though,” Britta went on. “I mean, like, lately, I keep running into people. Literally running into them, and they’re always cute, like that guy with the cookies back there. And I keep messing it up every time. Do you… do you think that’s related to addiction?”

            “Loss of motor skills and lack of attention are symptoms of marijuana abuse,” Annie said in a cheery yet academic tone. “I’m sure that’s the explanation. You’re not a screw up, Britta. It’ll stop once you’re not high all the time.”

 

“I don’t think the Meet Cutes are working,” Abed concluded. He and Rachel were holding their regular strategy plan at her place to review how Project: Get Britta a Boyfriend was progressing.

            “Yeah, from the way she was crying, I think we _may_ have missed something important about her character.”

            Rachel lived in a tiny studio apartment not far from campus. Unlike Annie’s old place, it was in a safe part of town, and she claimed you had to know somebody to get a lease there. Most of the free space that wasn’t kitchen, bed, or couch was taken up with stacks of DVDs and books. Abed had been in a state of wonder the first time her saw her collection. They’d agreed to always meet at her place, since Abed suspected his father wouldn’t believe she wasn’t his girlfriend, and he was dead set on his son marrying a _muslimah_.

            “What are some other possibilities we could use?”

            “Well, there’s the Blind Date.”

            “No, too much meddling. The brilliance of the Meet Cute is that it sets up an open-ended moment for potential romance without necessarily intending that specific person to be her prospective romantic interest. The downside is that it would seem to be too haphazard.”

            “There are other options, but I’m not sure we could effectively implement them. We could put her in danger and wait for someone to rescue her, and hope that they fall in love.”

            “Too risky.”

            “It wouldn’t be _too much_ danger.”

            “No, too risky that she might be saved by Jeff. We’ve already run through that scenario.”

            “Better as friends?”

            “Better as friends.”

            “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”

            “This may be an example of real life not matching movies. In movies, the writers control all the elements of the story. There’re too many actors involved in Greendale for us to properly choose the circumstances of her meet cute.”

            “Or maybe we’ve been moving too quickly. Four meet cutes in less than a week is a bit much.”

            “Yeah, we were running pretty thin with Trevor there at the end.” Abed thought back to Britta crying with Annie after their fourth attempt. Should he bring this up with Annie? Find out what was going wrong with Britta?

            Way too conveniently, Abed’s cell phone rang at that moment. He answered, listened calmly, and said, “Okay. I’ll see you later,” before hanging up.

            “Who was that?”

            “Annie. Apparently Britta’s addicted to marijuana. We’re having a pot-flushing party Sunday. Sorry, but it’s close friends only.”

            Rachel blinked twice. “Wow.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Plan’s off?”

            “I think so. At least for the moment.”

 

Somewhere off the northern coast of South America, LeVar Burton and Troy Barns were hatching a plan of their own. LeVar had been working the ropes on his wrists against a rusty nail in the side of the boat. He’d nicked himself twice, and the blood had made Troy almost pass out, but over the past few days he’d gradually worked the bindings down to a thread. He’d have let Troy do the same, but their guards hadn’t been pleased with their past attempts to change positions.

            If the pirates had been more attentive, they might have noticed what they were up to. Fortunately they seemed to be yelling in Spanish on their radio all the time and barely paid them any attention. They didn’t even bother to untie them when they were fed. The pirate who had asked for LeVar’s autograph was in charge of spoon-feeding them the gruel they’d been living off of. He was, apparently, a big fan of _Star Trek: la nueva generación_ , and seemed star-struck for having a cast member in his clutches.

            “He’s our weak spot,” LeVar had whispered to Troy. “I think he’ll be reluctant to shoot me when I make the first move.”

            “Do you speak Spanish, to, like, talk to him?”

            “Not really. What about you?”

            “…I know a rap in Spanish.”

            “I don’t think that will help.”

            “Well, maybe it will distract them?”

            LeVar didn’t have any better ideas, so late one night when his ropes were worn through, Troy began reciting his Spanish rap with Abed as loudly as he could. The two men guarding were confused, and started yelling things at him that he couldn’t understand. Troy kept going, and as the guards started to approach him, their backs turned to LeVar, he gave a silent “I love you _so_ much!” to Abed, wherever he was.

            Ropes cut, LeVar pushed to his feet, and, hopping up to his feet, dove for the nearest guard, the one who wasn’t the Trekkie, wrapping his arms around him and tackling him to the ground. The drop to the floor hit his head, knocking him unconscious. LeVar couldn’t believe their luck. He pulled the guard’s knife out and slid it across the floor to Troy, who shifted to grab it and started cutting his ropes.

            The Trekkie guard was panicking, swinging his pistol back between LeVar and Troy, not certain whether he should shoot the prisoner who was loose or the one that was less valuable a hostage. He was about to call out for help when LeVar lunged for him. The guard’s pistol went off, shooting wildly into the ceiling, and both the prisoners could hear voices above as the rest of pirates heard the commotion below deck.

            Troy had just freed his hands and feet when LeVar slid the pistol over to him. “Keep them off while I untie my legs!”

            “But,” Troy stammered, “I’ve never fired a real gun before! Only pretend ones in the Dreamatorium!”

            “Troy,” said LeVar.

            “Yeah?”

            “I believe in you.”

            That was all Troy needed to hear. When the pirates charged down the steps, he aimed the gun and declared, “Yippy ki-yay, mother—”


	4. A Friend In Need

The Great Pot-Dumping Party of 2013 was held that Sunday afternoon. Annie and Jeff had, of course, driven together, and Shirley had picked up Abed on her way. They met up outside of Britta’s apartment building. Jeff pushed the buzzer with Britta’s number. “Hey, we’re all here, let us in.”

            There was some coughing on the other end. “One sec!”

            It was more than one second, but she finally hit the switch that unlocked the door for them. When they reached her apartment and she opened the door, they all leaned back against the odor that hit them like a wave.

            “I had one last goodbye joint. So sue me.”

            “Crack a window, my eyes are burning,” Jeff muttered.

           Britta’s apartment was small and cluttered with papers, books, and clothes that hadn’t made it to her laundry bin. They saw a one-eyed cat skitter through the piles, meowing; the other was nowhere to be seen. Her walls were covered in posters from various bands and events. Both Annie and Shirley were failing to keep looks of disgust off their faces.

            “I know it needs to be picked up a little…”

            “ _A little_?” said Shirley.

            “Hey, I’ll be better once I’m off drugs, right? We all agreed on that.” She cleared her throat. “By the way, this isn’t a _permanent_ thing, right? Just until I get my act together and learn to control myself?”

            “Maybe,” Annie said. “Shirley has a drink every once in a while. But in the meantime, where’s your vacuum?”

            “It’s in the closet over there, behind the Radiohead poster… I think.”

            “Well, Jeffrey,” Shirley said as she gingerly stepped over a pile of laundry. “Why don’t _you_ help Britta dispose of her marijuana, since you know what it looks like. Annie, Abed, and I will pick up things ‘a little’.”

            Britta led Jeff to her bedroom. Most of it was taken up by her unmade bed, and they had to squeeze through to get to her closet.

            “Oh, this brings back so many happily forgotten memories.”

            “Shut up, Jeff. I try to forget what lousy lay you were too.” She pointed into the closet. “I keep my weed on the upper shelf. You should be tall enough to reach it without a step.”

            Jeff craned his neck and saw the Ziploc bad shoved in the corner. He reached and pulled it down, his eyes getting huge as he stared at it. “What the hell, Britta, this has to be half an ounce of pot!”

            She hugged her shoulders and shifted, a little embarrassed. “I’ve been going through a lot of it, I guess.”

            “How much did this _cost_?”

            Britta hemmed and hawed, which was all the answer he needed.

            “Well, there’s another reason for you to quit. You’ll have a lot more money to go around.”

            “Jeff, lay off already! Do I go around judging you all the time?”

            “Yes.”

            “…Okay, maybe I deserved that. But seriously, it’s not like I _meant_ to get hooked on pot. I’d been pretty casual for years, but after I quit smoking regular cigarettes, which are way worse for you, by the way! I sort of used it to replace them, I guess.”

            “Promise you won’t find some third thing to get hooked on?”

            “I promise I’ll _try_.” She looked a little wistfully at the bag before shaking her head firmly. “Anyway. How has Annie taken it? Learning that you’ve smoked pot, I mean.”

            “She’s been leaving little leaflets about the dangers of marijuana in strategic places around the apartment.”

            Britta guffawed. “Oh, you’re _so_ going to regret moving in with her, Jeff. In the meantime, let’s fight fire with fire. I’ve got some information about mass incarceration from the drug war around here…” she waved her hand absently, “…somewhere.”

           They came back out into the main room to find that the rest of the group was making good progress on cleaning. Abed had gone around with a pair of tongs picking up laundry and depositing it in the bin. Shirley had wheeled out the vacuum cleaner and emptied the filters. Annie, meanwhile, was gathering all the papers into precarious stacks on the dining room table, an exercise occasionally interrupted when one of Britta’s cats would decide to play parkour around the apartment.

            “Britta, do you know you still have fliers calling for George W. Bush’s impeachment?”

            “Really? Man, I meant to throw those out ages ago, chuck ’em.”

            Annie looked back at the two of them, and her eyes did the same thing Jeff’s had when she saw the size of the bag. “That’s a lot of… wait, _is_ that a lot of marijuana?”

            “Uh, yeah. I’m flushing it down the toilet." Jeff leaned in close to Annie’s ear and whispered, “Keep an eye out for any extra stashes as you clean.”

            “I _know_ , Jeff,” she whispered back. “I’m the expert here. I kept little bottles of Adderall hidden all over my house.”

            Britta and Jeff stood over her toilet as he shook the contents out into the bowl. “We could’ve resold it to Star-burns, you know.”

            “I considered it, but the dean’s been keeping an eye on him since he confessed to being the Ass Crack Bandit.” He flushed the toilet, and Britta sighed as two hundred dollars’ worth of pot circled the drain. “If you need any cash, I’ll lend you some.”

            “Yeah, just rub it in that you’ve got a decent job and I don’t.”

            “Hey, I offered the same thing for Annie when she was apartment hunting. I know I’ve been the lucky one in the group, even if it doesn’t feel that way when Annie’s breathing down my neck about giving her homework assignments. I’m in the mood to be a little generous.”

            Britta let out a long breath as the last of it vanished. “Okay, fine. You can pay me back in installments.” She heard the vacuum start loudly in the other room, and both her cats, lost somewhere in the mess, began yowling in protest. “Argh, I am going to have _such_ a headache.”

 

Britta had collapsed on the couch. She wasn’t feeling so great, which she supposed was partly due to really craving a joint right now. It was also partly because she was sick of Shirley giving her disapproving glances whenever one of them found a tiny stash hidden in a drawer or between the couch cushions.

            By the time dinner rolled around, her apartment was cleaner than it had been in years. Shirley stopped her judging long enough to whip them up a meal, and they all sat on the floor to eat, since the table was still covered in papers. Noam and Chomsky were purring softly on the couch.

            “So what’s the plan for this evening?” Britta asked as they munched on salads and sandwiches.

            “Well,” said Annie. “We were thinking that I would stay overnight with you, because the first twenty-four hour might be a little difficult.”

            “I can stay too,” Abed offered.

            “Won’t your dad be worried?”

            Abed blinked. “Right. For a second there I forgot we weren’t living together.”

            Annie made a sad face and gave his hand a squeeze. “Abed, you know I wish we still were. And I miss Troy, too.”

            A cell phone began to buzz, and everyone checked theirs. It turned out to be Shirley, and she gave a deep sigh when she read the text message. “I would stay and help you clean up after dinner, Britta, but Andre needs me to take the boys tonight.”

            “That’s fine,” said Britta, secretly relieved that her time under Shirley the Hypocritical Critic was done, at least for a while. “Annie and I can finish, all of you can go home.”

            They each gave Britta a hug as they filed out, first Shirley, then Abed, and lastly Jeff. Annie smiled at him as he started for the door. “Don’t go wild at the apartment without me there.”

            “Gosh darn it, Annie. I was totally going to bring over some hookers and blow until you reminded me not go wild! Way to rain on my parade.” He smirked at her, and she smiled back.

            “So,” she said, turning to Britta after they’d all finally left. “Do you want to sort through your papers now?”

            “No. No way in hell. I have had enough chores and suffering for one day, I’ll do it later.” Britta plopped onto her couch and turned on the TV. “Want to just watch whatever pops up in my Netflix queue?”

            “That sounds great! What do you have?”

            “Bunch of documentaries. _Last Call at the Oasis, The Cove_ … you probably don’t want to watch that last one right after you ate.”

            Annie kept her smile fixed in place. “That sounds great, Britta. But, do you have any _non_ -documentaries? Maybe something a little lighter?”

            Britta scrolled through their options. “I’ve got Tim Burton’s _Sleepy Hollow_. TV show’s way better, though.”

            “I will make do with whatever you have.”

            It was actually more fun than Annie expected. They laughed at the cheesy parts, especially Christopher Walken chewing the scenery without speaking a word. It turned out they both shared pretty strong opinions on Johhny Depp, too – gorgeous in _Finding Neverland_ and _Pirates of the Caribbean_ , embarrassingly awful in _The Lone Ranger_ and _Alice in Wonderland_.

            “You know,” Annie said as the credits rolled, “I’ve had a really good time this evening. We used to do things together all the time, and we need to get back in the habit. We could even plan protest events, now that you’re going to be a little more sober. I have some great banner ideas!”

            “Thanks, Annie. I’m just glad you’re not sore about the stuff I said at your housewarming party.”

            “Oh, I’d forgiven that even before I knew you were dealing with an addiction.” She smiled and played with her hair a little. “So, um, you don’t think it’s a bad idea for me and Jeff to move in anymore?”

            “Oh, I still think it’s an awful idea, but you’re my friends, so…I’ll hope for the best.”

            “Look, I know it might be hard for you to believe, but Jeff and I really _are_ just friends. Nothing bad is going to happen. I know I used to have a crush on him, but I haven’t felt like that since we all came back to Greendale. No more butterflies in my stomach, no more swooning when he dresses up. I just feel comfortable and happy around him. We eat breakfast and dinner together, we study, we watch movies. It's only been a little more than week, but so far living with him has been a ton of fun. Like with Abed and Troy, only less nerdy.”

            Britta gave her a skeptical glance. “Really? It’s been just peachy? No problems whatsoever?”

            “Well,” Annie began, shifting a little awkwardly. “He _does_ tend to hog the bathroom in the morning, a lot. And we do fight, sometimes. Generally about class, and how he’s only a couple of chapters ahead of what he’s teaching, and how we have to have real assignments that actually challenge us, and then he gets on _my_ case for bugging him, or how I still have a few stuffed animals…”

            “Okay! I get it! It’s not all paradise over at the balcony apartment.”

            “Sorry. He can be frustrating, but I know I have my own flaws, and things weren’t always perfect with Troy and Abed either. Friendship means working through your problems, it doesn’t mean you don’t have any.”

            Britta nodded. “That is true. Actually, it makes me feel better to know that you’re not being all starry-eyed over him anymore.”

            “I never _really_ was, Britta. I mean, okay, right after we kissed that one time I may have reacted… badly—”

            “You mean like a junior high girl?”

            “Hey! That may be true but, what I mean is, I _know_ Jeff is flawed. I know he’s not perfect. And I realized a while ago that I’m never going to fix him and make him the perfect man, so I might as well just enjoy being friends with him.”

            “Huh. That is super mature of you, Annie, I am impressed.”

            She beamed. “Thanks Britta!”

            “It’s undercut a little by how you two were totally flirting as he left, but still, very mature.”

            “How were we flirting?!”

            “Hmm, no, you’re right, Annie, he totally meant it that he was going to have sex workers over. I bet he even told you that just so you wouldn’t suspect him.”

            “Jeff wouldn’t do that,” Annie said firmly. But after a few moments, she announced, “I have a private and completely unrelated phone call to make.”

            Annie dashed into the bathroom. Britta waited for the door to close before bursting into laughter.

 

Shirley got out of her car at Andre’s house, feeling tired in both body and soul. Body, because cleaning Britta’s apartment had been a Herculean task, and soul because she really didn’t want to face her estranged husband tonight. Well, that and she was concerned about Britta. She hadn’t realized how bad it was until Annie had started finding secret stashes. Shirley remembered all too well what that was like.

            She knocked on the door, and after a minute Andre answered. He was wearing his work uniform already, and he gestured for her to be quiet. “Ben’s already asleep. I don’t know if we can move him without waking him up.”

            “You need to tell that boss of yours that you have three children at home. I can’t keep taking them every time you get assigned a night shift at the last minute.” Shirley peered at where the older boys were watching TV intently in the living room, Ben curled up sleeping on the sofa. “How much TV do you let them watch?”

            “They only started five minutes ago, Shirley, what do you take me for?”

            “I don’t know, Andre. The kind of man who takes his wife’s DVR that she paid for when he up and leaves her?”

            “Are you still stuck on that?”

            “No,” Shirley admitted. “But I’d like to at least take them to church on Sundays, even when they’re staying with you.”

            “I take them to _my_ church.”

            She scoffed, and he glared at her.

            “You got a problem with my church?”

            “I want my boys raised Baptist.”

            “You know, Shirley, maybe our church was part of the problem. Always setting up unrealistic expectations for other people, expectations for our marriage that we could never live up to.”

            “It also taught me about _forgiveness_ , Andre. For myself and for others.” She looked at him sadly. “We could use more of that, me and you.”

            Andre ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I can’t debate this with you now, Shirley. I got to get to work in twenty minutes. Want to move them to the car?”

            Ben looked like a little angel when he was sleeping. Shirley shook her head. “No, if it’s all right with you, I’ll stay here tonight. I’ll put them to bed and stay on the sofa.”

            “You sure?”

            “No sense in bothering them now.”

            “Thank you so much, Shirley. If I were still at my sister’s, you know I wouldn’t ask you.”

            “I like helping you out. You’re still my husband, after all.”

            “Shirley—”

            “I’m not divorcing you, Andre,” she insisted. “I know things are hard right now and we need some time apart, and I know it’s my fault, but once the sandwich shop is in the black—”

            “I don’t want a divorce, either. But I think we might need it. You’ve… changed since you went to that college. Not all in a bad way. The Shirley I married would never have taken a risk like opening a store of her own. But the Shirley I married wouldn’t have pushed us close to bankruptcy to keep it going either.”

            Shirley kept her face stoic, but averted her eyes. “Well, if that’s how you feel…if you’ve lost all faith in me, I don’t know what I can do about it.”

            Andre sighed and looked at his watch. “I gotta go now; we can talk about this later. Thanks for doing this for me again.” He gave her an awkward and hasty peck on the cheek before grabbing his coat and going out the door.

            Shirley gave a sigh as heavy as his, but covered it with a smile as she walked to the living room. Elijah and Jordan both looked up and groaned. “Aw, do we have to leave? _Adventure Time_ just started!”

            She didn’t let their dismay bother her; they were just children, what did they know? “Oh, it’s all right, sweeties, mommy’s going to stay here and watch you tonight while daddy works?”

            “For real?” Elijah asked excitedly. “Are you moving back in with us?”

            Okay, now _that_ hurt. “No baby, it’s just for this night. But we can still have fun while I’m here, right?” She took a seat on the couch next to Ben’s sleeping form and stroked his check gently.

            “Well,” Jordan told her, “right now we’re watching _Adventure Time,_ so you have to be quiet!”

            Shirley did her best, but she could not follow the plot of this strange show. She had a feeling Abed would love it, him and that new girlfriend of his. She suddenly wondered whether he’d made it back all right in Jeff’s car, and took out her phone to message him.

Shirley>u got home ok?

Abed>Yes.

Abed>Jeff’s car smells like Annie now.

 

            She chuckled.

 

Sh>annie loves her body sprays doesn’t she?

Ab>Tell me about it. Troy and I made her cut back.

Sh> jeff doesn’t ♥♥♥

Ab>Good night, Shirley.

 

            Shirley pouted. Abed was never any fun for gossip. If she wanted that…

 

Sh> u ok w/out Annie?

Jeff>why are you texting me?

Sh>don’t want u 2 b lonely

 

           While she waited for Jeff’s reply (she suspected he might be ignoring her too), she got a text from someone else.

 

Annie>Britta update: she’s doing good!!! :)

Sh>no tremors?

An>marijuana is a psychological addiction. If she was going to have real withdrawal (cont.)

An>I’d have made her go to rehab. [thumbs up icon]

Sh>missing Jeff already? ;)

An>tomorrow at breakfast, maybe.

 

            Shirley wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that. On the one hand, she didn’t want encourage any premarital relations between the two of them. On the other hand, those two could be so cute together. It was about damn time that Jeff settled down with a nice girl, and Britta has been out of the running for a while. So _maybe_ she could be supportive of potential fornication if led to a wedding down the line.

 

Sh>that’s sweet! like newlyweds :D

An>[rolling eye smiley]

 

            “Mom?” Jordan asked, “What’s so funny?”

            “Oh nothing, honey. Your show almost over?”

 

Britta fell asleep on the couch, and Annie didn’t think she was strong enough to carry her to her bed. She considered her options: sleeping on the floor or crashing on Britta’s bed. Well, the floor might be clean now, but it was still awfully hard, and Annie was never able to sleep on floors. So the bed it was.

            She tore off the sheets, and replaced them with a set from Britta’s closet. It still smelled vaguely marijuana-y, but maybe Jeff was right and she needed to stop caring so much about that. She’d have to read up and decide how she would vote about it that Thursday. Annie kicked off her shoes and stripped to her camisole and underwear before crawling under the covers. As she did, both of Britta’s cats came running in, mewling, and curled up on the bed, one by her feet and the other close to her face. As its tail brushed her nose, Annie was very glad that she wasn’t allergic.

            Britta’s bed was actually relatively comfy, actually. It was pretty big, though. Enough for two people…

            Annie had been sleepy before, but now her eyes widened in horror. _Oh God Jeff and Britta had **sex** in this bed!!!_ And she was _definitely_ not thinking about that, nope, no way was she imagining her two best friends getting it on, nope, especially when she _technically_ knew what Jeff looked like naked, nope, ew, ew, ew –

            Thankfully a cat fart to the face distracted her from that line of thinking. Britta’s cats were gross, and clearly considered the bed to be theirs. She pulled the covers up over her head and did her best to fall asleep.

 

As the rocket propelled grenade hit the side of the already-sinking pirate vessel, LeVar whooped. “That’s what you get messing with Kunta Kinte!”

            “Yeah! And that’s for Tasha Yar!”

            “What does Tasha Yar have to do with anything?”

            “…We aren’t yelling the names of _Star Trek_ characters?”

            LeVar had a look of shock on his face. “You’ve never seen _Roots_?”

            “Uh, duh-doy, no, I’m only twenty-three, that came out like ten years before I was even _born_.”

            “It came out the same year as _Star Wars_!”

            Bullet fire ricocheted off the newly-recovered _Childish Tycoon_. The two men ducked, and shared a quick look. “I’ll get the sails going,” Troy offered.

            “Good idea.”


	5. She's Not My Girlfriend

“I could just hide in my room.”

            “For four hours? Without peeing?”

            “Gross, Jeff. I don’t… use the bathroom that often.”

            “You’ll have more fun if you go out.”

            Annie folded her arms. “Or you could invite us all to your party.”

            “Thereby defeating the purpose of a faculty party. My new friends need some attention, too.”

            “I hate this.” Annie complained, shoulders slouching. “I’m just as good of friends with Hickey as you. And you barely know half the people on this list!”

            “That’s the _point_. If I’m going to be working with them, I need to make them like me again.”

            Annie blinked. “So you’ve really made up your mind? You’re going to keep teaching?”

            Jeff cursed inwardly as he scrambled to think of what to say. “I… _may_ have told the dean I’ll be staying another semester.”

            “Really?!”

            “Don’t get so excited.”

            “I’m _proud_ , Jeff!”

            “I’ll have you know, this had _nothing_ to do with you. Mostly I just need the work.”

            “No, I'm proud of _you_. You’re actually sticking with something. Maybe you’re finally getting over your commitment-phobia.”

            “I signed a one-year lease with you, Annie, after years of going month-to-month, and you still accuse me avoiding commitment?”

            “I just never imagined you’d actually get into teaching.”

            “It's weird, but it turns out giving people long lectures is something that I really like. Who would ever have guessed?”

            Annie laughed, and he grinned.

            “It’s mostly for the committee, though. I hate to admit it, but we are managing to do some good around this place.”

            They were sitting side-by-side on a couch in the library, feet propped on a low table. Jeff was texting, only this time to actual people. “Got another RSVP,” he told her.

            “Promise me that you’ll kick them out before it gets too late?”

            “By ten o’clock. Promise.”

            Annie smiled and adjusted the hemline on her pants. They kept riding up whenever she sat down. She’d been a skirt fan for so long that it was kind of stunning how much she had to relearn. She glanced up to see Jeff looking at her legs. “What?”

            “What on earth made you decide to suddenly start wearing pants all the time?”

            “It makes me look more mature.”

            “Caring about whether you look mature is the first sign of immaturity.”

            “And caring about whether you look cool is the first sign you’re uncool. Pot, kettle.”

            “Just do me a favor and ask some friends out for the night.” Jeff didn’t look up from his text replying, and Annie had to give up.

            She found Rachel and Abed in the study room, a giant map spread out over the table. “What’s up?”

            “We received a message from Troy,” Abed explained. “He and LeVar Burton were captured by pirates off of Cartagena.”

            “Oh no!”

            “No, it’s cool. They broke free, defeated them, took back the boat, and now they’re on their way across the Atlantic.”

            “Wow. That’s quite an adventure.”

            “I know,” and Abed smiled warmly. “I wish I could be there.”

            There were not enough awws in the world for the way Annie felt right then.

            “We’re trying to figure out how to stay in contact with them,” Rachel went on. “They don’t have an internet uplink, so it might have to be by radio. Do you know anyone who knows how to do ham radio?”

            “I barely know what that is.”

            Abed began folding up the map. “We’ll figure something out.” He looked at Annie, who was fiddling with the strap of her bag. “Did you have something to ask us?”

            “Actually, yes. Jeff’s having some of the faculty over on Friday evening, and since _officially_ students and teachers aren’t supposed to be sharing accommodations, I have to disappear. I was wondering if you two had any plans?”

            “ _Thor: The Dark World_ ” they said in unison.

            “Oh.”

            “Opening night,” Abed explained. “And apparently there will be a tie-in on the next episode of _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ ”

            “It’s our one last hope that _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._ might turn into a half-watchable show.”

            “We’ve been planning this for weeks.”

            “It was literally the second thing we decided we wanted to do together.”

            “Then I shouldn’t intrude,” Annie said, preparing to leave.

            “You wouldn’t be intruding,” Rachel said. “Right?”

            Abed nodded in agreement. “We can rewrite the scenario to have a third person involved. In fact, I’d already created a loophole for the possibility of someone wanting to come with us.”

            “Really? Great! What do I have to do?”

            Rachel gave Abed a look. “Project: Make Skye Not Awful?” When he nodded, she told Annie “Nothing. Just show up at the mall at 6 pm. We were going to eat then watch the 7:15 show. You should know what to do when we arrive.”

            “Okay,” Annie was a little confused. “No costumes for me?”

            “Dress like usual,” Abed said. “Civilian clothes are part of the scenario.”

            “Okay.” Annie looked back and forth between their two almost blank faces. Rachel was slightly less socially awkward than Abed, but she was just as serious when it came to their games. “So, I guess I’ll see you then.”

            “Yes,” said Abed.

            “And no,” added Rachel.

            Friendships, Annie thought to herself, are strange.

 

Dean Pelton sashayed into Jeff and Annie’s apartment. “I brought quiches if anyone wants them!”

            Jeff thanked whatever gods there might be that the dean had decided not to dress up for the occasion. He hadn’t actually planned to invite him, but _someone_ had let it slip that he was having a party, and he’d had it passive-aggressively pointed out to him that he was only working here on the fiat of a certain cross-dressing loon. Dean Pelton could be surprisingly threatening when he wanted to.

            “Jeffrey,” he declared as he set down his plate on the table, “This apartment is fabulous! How do you afford it on what I pay you?”

            “There’s no AC,” Jeff lied. He and Annie had settled on it as the most believable story, after they'd rejected “dead great-aunt left me money in her will” and “the last tenant was murdered,” both of which could be checked. In Colorado they wouldn’t need the air conditioning until next summer.

            “Ah,” the dean gave a knowing nod. “So this summer, I suppose it’ll be very hot in here, on the third floor. You’ll probably have to go around in one of those sleeveless tanks…all sweaty…”

            “Great talking with you!” Jeff said loudly as he turned on his heel and walked over to the nearest professor, which happened to be Annie’s old political science teacher. “Professor Cligoris! Am I pronouncing that correctly?” He snapped his fingers. “Wait, that’s right, either is acceptable.”

            “Very good, Mr. Winger. Or may I call you Jeff now?”

            “Jeff is fine. We’re all teachers here.”

            “Yes. I admit this is odd for me, having a former student become one of my colleagues, but I suppose it’s also somewhat inspirational.”

            “I wouldn’t call teaching at the community college you graduated from exactly a heartwarming story of overcoming tragedy,” Jeff smirked.

            “Yes, we all heard your little speech at the beginning of the year,” Professor Garrity remarked drolly as he sauntered over. “We’re here because we’re losers?”

            “Come on, I meant that in the most respectful way possible. I mean, be honest, would _any_ of us be working here if we had better options?”

            Cligoris looked a little abashed, and Garrity thoughtful until he finally said, “I will admit you have a point, Mr. Winger. I would much prefer to be at a school that could afford to put on the kind of productions I dream about.”

            “And I wish we could sponsor a field trip to the _real_ United Nations,” Cligoris said longingly.

            “Well, we’re all here, and we’re all trying, so help yourselves to the spread and crap the dean is heading over here, I’ve got to run.”

           

Annie was waiting in the mall near the food court, tapping her foot impatiently. Six o’clock had already passed and she hadn’t see Rachel or Abed anywhere. She checked her watch again – 6:15 – and had a horrible feeling that maybe they'd ditched her. She consoled herself with the thought that if they had, it might mean they wanted to be alone together, which was a promising development.

            She was almost ready to call Abed on his cell when a throaty voice whispered in her right ear, “Whatever you do, miss, stay calm.”

            Annie almost jumped out of her skin, but a hand was placed on each of her shoulders from behind. “Who…”

            “Come with us,” said another voice in her left ear. “And don’t make any sudden movements.”

            Annie was panicking a little, trying to think of what could possibly be going on. The hands on her shoulders were gloved in black, and they gripped her tightly as they steered her out of the food court and toward the restrooms. They opened the unisex bathroom and brought her inside, pausing only to check that no one noticed the three of them entering.

            They released her, but the man on her left told her to keep her eyes on the floor. She did, heart pounding, and she could feel herself sweating.

            “We represent a top-secret government organization, Ms. Edison. Your recent activities have come to our attention.”       

            _Recent activities…?_

            “You have skills,” said the figure on the right, and she now recognized it was a woman. “Skills that you could use, with our help, for a higher cause.”

            “You have two choices, Ms. Edison. Ignore our request, and face the consequences for your actions, or join us, and see a world you never imagined possible.”

            That was when Annie realized what was going on, and had to fight back a smile. “I can imagine a lot of things,” she played along. “Especially after what happened in New York last year.”

            “Then you understand the urgency of our situation,” Abed said.

            “When do I have to make a decision?”

            “Ideally, now,” Rachel told her. “Our next mission is set to begin in an hour. Are you prepared to embark on it with us?”

            Annie raised her head, eyes closed, face kept in a perfect look of stoic determination. “Yes. This is the chance I’ve always wanted – to make a difference in the world.”

            “And you’re not just using this as a ploy to bring us down from the inside, while being conflicted because you like us? Because that plot is lame, and we really want to avoid it.”

            “Never. I may not always approve of your methods, but I’d rather fight to reform you from the inside than keep opposing from the outside.”

            “Then welcome aboard, Ms. Edison.”

            Annie opened her eyes to see that Rachel was extending a hand for her to shake. As she did, she looked at the two friends. They were both wearing black suits, ties, and sunglasses, the perfect look for secret agents of not-S.H.I.E.L.D. Annie hadn’t watched much of that show, but she took it that they didn’t like one of the characters and were using her for a live-action fixfic. She really wished they’d given her more warning of what they were planning, though.

            “But first,” said Abed, in his secret agent voice, “Let’s get something to eat.”

            As they waited in line at one of the burger joints, Rachel and Abed never broke character. They “requisitioned” three burgers, two sets of fries, and a salad (for Annie). “You don’t want any drinks?”

            “Negative. Superfluous fluid intake will be detrimental to the upcoming mission.”

            Rachel volunteered to stay by the register and wait for their meals, while Abed and Annie went to save seats. Abed was still very much in character, checking their table and chairs for wires before declaring it clear. “You can never be too careful in our line of work, Ms. Edison,” he told her.

            “Of course. I mean, the safety of the entire world depends on the success of our mission.”

            They both sat down, and things went very quiet. Apparently Agent Abed wasn’t interested much in small-talk. Annie cleared her throat. “Can we maybe talk out of character until Rachel comes back?”

            “Sure,” Abed said, dropping his serious secret agent scowl and replacing it with his usual impassive demeanor. “What do you want to talk about?”

            “Well, Rachel. You two went to a lot of work to get this game happening. Are…are you guys… serious?”

            Abed frowned. “We do both treat our homages seriously. It’s part of why we get along.”

            “No, I mean, are _you_ serious? Together. As, well, boyfriend and girlfriend…?”

            “She’s not my girlfriend.”

            “But… she could be? Maybe?”

            “Annie, we agreed to stop trying to control our friends. I will admit I bent that rule with someone else recently, but I would never meddle with you. Please don’t meddle with me.”

            Annie’s shoulders slumped. “So you don’t like Rachel?”

            “I didn’t say that. She’s a cool friend.”

            “No, I meant _like her_ , like her.” An unnerving thought crossed her mind. “There’s not… somebody else, is there?”

            Abed frowned. “What do you mean?”

            “You’re not… you don’t have feelings for me, do you?”

            “What makes you say that?”

            “Well, we lived together, and we had some real heart-to-hearts, and we did totally make out during the second paintball battle.”

            “I was in character.”

            “Right, but you’re Abed, you had to know that was a possibility.”

            “Of course. That’s why I took the role before Jeff did. We really didn’t need a repeat of the cliffhanger from first year.” Abed peered at Annie, who was looking at her drink, brow creased. “If it makes you feel better, you’re a good kisser.”

            “So you _have_ kissed other people?”

          “Yes. But only in character. Like when Troy and I reenacted the love scene during our remake of _Kickpuncher_.”

            “ _Oh_.” Annie was really interested in that drink of hers. “Okay, I don’t know any better way to ask this than to just ask it, but are you gay?”

            He thought about it. “I don’t know.”

            “Abed, you’re two years older than I am, how can you _not_ _know_ whether you’re gay?”

            “I guess I’ve never considered a romantic relationship out of character before. Before I met all of you, I’d never even considered friendships. I do notice when people are physically attractive, though, and that seems to be equal for men and women.”

            Abed walky-talky squawked. “Rainman, this is Coatcheck, do you copy?”

            He immediately turned serious. “Coatcheck, this is Rainman, I read you.”

            “Burgers and fries have been requisitioned, I repeat, burgers and fries are on their way.”

            “What’s your ETA?”

            “Thirty seconds.”

            They both turned around to see Rachel balancing a tray laden with food on one hand, her walky-talky in the other. She was certainly coordinated, Annie gave her that. As Rachel set their food down, Abed stood. “Excuse me, agent, but I have some quick business to take care of.”

            “Understood. I’ll resume observation of the recruit.”

            It took Annie a moment to realize that Abed meant he needed to use the bathroom, and in that span of time, Rachel had taken the seat next to his and begun distributing their meals.

            “Thank you for this, by the way,” Rachel said.

            “Oh, it’s an honor to be part of your mission.”

            She waved a hand. “Out of character.”

            “Oh. Well, thank you for letting me tag along at the last minute.”

            “This…” Rachel cocked her head slightly as she poked at her fries, much like Abed, only her frown was more pained than confused. “This is the sort of thing I’ve always _wanted_ to do with friends, but for some reason playing pretend becomes socially unacceptable after you reach middle school.”

            “No kindred spirits growing up?”

            “Online, plenty. Real life, not so much. I had a few at the first school I went to, but when I transferred, I never really connected. I don’t mean to barge in on you guys. I know you have your own dynamic. But Abed’s great, and I really want to make this friendship work.”

            “We _are_ a pretty close-knit group, but Abed really likes you, so I know we’ll try to include you in things. I mean,” and Annie gave her warmest smile, “you included _me_ today. Now we just have to have more fun than Jeff, and rub it in his face.”

 

Friendships, Jeff thought to himself, are strange. Take him and Ian Duncan, for example. Half the time he wanted to clock the guy in his face for being smug and British, and the other half there wasn’t anybody he’d rather share drinks with, a guy who could be just as cynical and straight-to-the-point as him.

            He wasn’t sure which half he was in right now.

            “So,” Duncan said, doing his best to sound casual, “How’s Britta doing?”

            “Why do you care?”

            “Well, I saw her crying at the party the other night…”

            “And made lewd comments.”

            “Yes, but now that I’m a teensy bit more sober, I actually do want to know what’s wrong.”

            “Sucks to be you, then.”

            “Come on, we’re friends, you can share.”

            “ _We’re_ friends. You and Britta aren’t that close.”

            “Hmm, I’d like to be,” Duncan said, sipping his drink.

            They were both sitting on the sofa, Jeff slouched and trying to send off ‘stay away, dean’ vibes as hard as he could. So far it had been working, but that was partly because the dean was deeply involved in conversation with Professor LeClair over the latest episode of _Dancing With the Stars_. From the snippets Jeff could hear, it seemed to have less to do with the merits of the dancing and more to do with the dreaminess of the dancers.

            “Look,” Jeff finally said. “I have an unwritten policy to not get involved in the love lives of my friends. So I’m not going to hook you up with Britta, okay? If you actually like her, ask her out, sign a release form with the dean, and go out. Honestly, though, I don’t think you’re her type.”

            “Oh really? And just what _is_ her type?”

            “Losers with good bodies. For a smart woman, she can be really shallow when it comes to men.”

            “I’ve got a good body!” Duncan protested, but when Jeff gave him a look, he shrugged. “Well, I’m not Daniel Craig, but I’m not Benny Hill either. And I’ve been told my face is very distinguished.”

            “By who? Your mother?”

            “What is this, Winger, jealousy? Don’t want me nabbing your ex? Worried that if I manage to seduce her, it’ll make me better than you?”

            “That would require Britta being my actual ‘ex’ rather than a friend I hooked up with a few times—”

            “A few?”

            “All right, admittedly twelve in more-or-less a row is my second-place record for long-lasting lays, but we weren’t exactly dating, and we haven’t hooked up in years. I actively rooted for her and Troy, you know.”

            “And you can’t root for another friend now, because…?”

            “…you’re her advisor? Come on, Duncan, we just got rid of one creepy British professor who hit on female students, we don’t need another.”

            “Yes, but I’m not _old_. That makes it acceptable. Or, what, are you the only professor who gets to bag a student?”

            “Damn it, Duncan, how many times do I have to tell you, Annie’s not my girlfriend!”

            “Who’s not your girlfriend?”

            “Dean Pelton! Um, nobody, I was, uh…” Jeff looked from the dean peering over the sofa to his friend and thought _Every man for himself_. “Professor Duncan is trying to sleep with Britta!”

            “What?!” the dean gasped. “Ian!”

            “Thanks, Winger,” his friend sneered.

            “Well, I’m sure you need to explain to him the college’s procedure for student-teacher entanglements, so I’m going to go see how Guterman’s doing…”

            “Not so fast, Jeffrey!” The dean grabbed his arm to hold him back, and spent a few seconds too long touching his bicep. “I’ve been waiting this whole evening for a tour of the apartment.” He made his best attempt to look innocent. “Which of these is your bedroom?”

            Jeff seriously considered finally preparing a lawsuit, when he was saved by a loud voice.

            “WHO WANTS TO PLAY BEER PONG?!”

            It was Chang, shirtless, atop his dining room table, holding shot glasses and a ping pong ball.

            “Benjamin! You’re making a scene, stop that and get down from there!” As the dean rushed over to the table, Chang gave Jeff a big wink and a thumbs up. Great, now he owed Chang a favor. Searching the room wildly, Jeff concluded there was only one last safe place to try.

            He closed the balcony door behind him with a sigh of relief – only to then nearly have a heart attack when he realized he wasn’t alone. “Hickey!”

            “Winger,” he growled back. The criminology professor was smoking a cigar, and Jeff almost considered asking him if he had an extra.

            “Okay, I’m out here because it’s my last refuge from the dean. What’s your excuse?”

            Hickey shrugged. “I’m not a party person.”

            “There’s a shock.”

            “About an hour of that crap is all I can handle before I need to breathe. And you’ve got this nice balcony here, so I figured, what the hell.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ll bet Ms. Edison loves this part of the apartment.”

            Without thinking, Jeff nodded, then his eyes popped wide. “Wait, no, no, I’m not—”

            Hickey waved a hand. “Relax, Winger. I’m not going to rat you out to Pelton.”

            “But how did you—”

            “Ex-cop. Annie’s roommate request went down right around the time that you changed your address and started giving her a ride to school. Given how close you two are, it was a pretty logical conclusion.”

            “It’s not what you think.”

            “You’re not sharing an apartment to save rent?”

            Jeff looked stunned. “Wait, you _don’t_ think we’re a couple?”

            “Nope.” Hickey chuckled. “Annie’s a smart young woman. She’d know better than to sleep with her professor and taint her A’s.”

            “Oh, believe me, if I gave Annie an ‘A’ for anything other than her deserving it, she’d murder me in my sleep.” Jeff checked his watch. “Actually, it’s getting late enough that I think I need to call the party to a close. I promised her she could come back to the apartment by ten.”

            “Well, then, let’s clear everybody out.”

            Hickey entered the apartment, cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Party’s finished, everybody. Winger’s got a date coming over.”

            An adolescent chorus of _oooh!_ went through the room, and Jeff now wished he’d limited their alcohol intake. He got a lot of half-drunken congratulations, a few knowing chuckles, and one very disappointed look from the dean. “We barely got to talk tonight, Jeffrey,” he said sadly as Jeff forced him bodily out the door.

            It took ten minutes before coats were found, cabs called, and everyone shuffled out of the apartment, leaving just Jeff and Hickey. There was food and trash scattered out on the floor, sofa, and chairs, and Jeff pulled out a garbage bag to begin cleaning.

            “Let me do that,” said Hickey as he took the bag from Jeff. “You call Annie and tell her she can come back.”

            As Jeff dialed her number and waited for Annie to pick up (she was #3 on his speed dial, after his hair product supplier and his doctor), he felt an overwhelming sense of relief that Hickey had figured it out. He liked the old curmudgeon, and what’s more _Annie_ liked him, so knowing they had Hickey as an ally was a lucky turn. “Hey, Annie, where are you now?”

            “At the French Bean.” That was the snooty coffee house kitty-corner to their building. “Are they all gone now?”

            “Hickey’s still here, but apparently he pieced together that we’re sharing an apartment, so it’s safe for you to come back.”

            “Great! I’m on my way.” He could hear her stand up, pushing in her chair.

            “How was the movie?”

            “Pretty good. Better than the first one. There’s still basically no chemistry between Natalie Portman and Chris Hemsworth, but fortunately that didn’t take up too much of the plot.”

            “Was I right? Did Hiddleston steal the movie?”

            “Well of course!” By now Annie must have been crossing the street, because he could hear traffic. “By the next movie they’re going to call it _Thor: We Know You’re Really Here for Loki_.”

            Jeff chuckled. “Well, you Loki fangirls are their bread and butter.”

            “Jeff! You know my heart belongs to Bruce Banner! Loki’s just… fun.”

            “Rachel and Abed didn’t give you too much trouble?”

            He heard her punching in the code to get into their building. “No. Well, they were secret agents, but it was fun. I may have screwed things up a tad by asking Abed about whether they were dating.”

            “Annie…”

            “I know, I know, I don’t want to be Miss Puppetmaster of my friend’s lives, but he _is_ my friend, Jeff, so I wanted to know. But they’re just friends. Can you believe that he doesn’t know whether he’s gay or not?”

            “Uh, yeah. He’s _Abed_ , Annie, he’s weird. It’s why we love him, but it’s also why you really shouldn’t keep playing matchmaker with him.”

            “Right, lesson learned. Again. I’m heading upstairs right now, see you in a few minutes.”

            Jeff hung up, and turned to see that Hickey had stopped picking up trash, and instead was giving him a very peculiar look. “What?”

            Hickey shook his head. “Nothing. Just…you really like that gal, don’t you?”

            “Don’t tell her I said it, because she will never let me live it down, but she’s pretty much my best friend at this point.”

            Hickey smirked and went back to picking up. “She’s a pretty remarkable young lady.”

            The noise of keys in the door signaled Annie’s arrival. “I’m back! How was the party?”

            “Mediocre. Minus the dean it might have been actually good. He left some quiches in the fridge if you’re still hungry.”

           “Ooh, quiche!” Annie opened the refrigerator door and pulled one out. “And don’t be so mean to the dean, Jeff. He’s in _deep_ denial.”

            “He’s walking a thin line between amusing awkwardness and sexual harassment, Annie.”

            “Well, maybe we should have an intervention for him! We’ve been having luck with those lately.”

            Hickey interrupted by presenting a full trash bag to Jeff. “Where do you dump this stuff?”

            “I’ll take it. Do you mind seeing yourself out?”

            “Not at all.” After Jeff left the room, Hickey picked up his coat and walked over to where Annie was noshing on her quiche. “Things going all right with you?”

            “Great. Um… you’re okay with me and Jeff, you know, sharing an apartment?”

            “I trust you two. Besides,” and here Hickey gave one of his little half-grins that his dour face fought against. “I don’t think he looked happier tonight than when he called to tell you to come home.”

            Annie froze, quiche held midair. “Really?”

            “Yeah. He may be one of us now, but your little group will always be family to him.”

            Annie smiled, a bit embarrassed. “Thanks.”

            When Hickey left and Jeff came back, Annie gave him a hug. “What’s that for?”

            “Nothing. Just… happy that you’re my roomy.”

 

Troy was weeping, tears welling in his eyes and trailing down his face as he fisted Kleenex against his cheeks. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen!”

            “It’s the mini-series that captivated an entire nation.”

            “Why hadn’t I watched this before!?”

            “Calm down, Troy, it’ll be okay.”

            “I want my _name_ back, LeVar! They _took our names_!”

            LeVar sighed. He was really starting to regret making Troy watch _Roots_ on their voyage across the Atlantic. “Well, we’ll be in the mother country by next week, so can you stop crying until we get there?”

            Troy nodded, lip trembling. “Aw man, when I get back to Greendale, first thing I’m gonna do is make Abed watch this. It might be like the first time I’ve seen something _he hasn’t_!”


	6. Fate Drives Us Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was waiting until s5e7 to finish this to make sure I was getting the right idea on Duncan's character. The episode was more dramatic than it was funny, but I love Duncan so much right at the moment. There will be many more Jeff and Duncan moments in this than I'd originally planned.
> 
> For now, enjoy a car chase.

Britta looked in the mirror of her bathroom and read the little note that Annie had left taped to it: “remember, it’s ok to work on YOU!” with a smiley face drawn below. She almost reached up to tear it down with a growl, but stopped herself. Annie was just trying to be a friend, giving her bits of advice from her time in rehab and NA. She didn’t have to be so perky about it, though.

            Britta finished washing her face and changed into her pajamas. Noam and Chomsky were whining for their evening dinner, so she fed them, pleased to note that she’d managed to keep her apartment quite clean in the three weeks since the Pot Dumping Party. Yes, that was mostly because she used cleaning as a substitute whenever she had a craving, which was often, but it was a positive step.

            Anyway, thanks to Colorado voters, marijuana would be legal on January 1st, and she was sure that if she could hold out that long without going crazy, Annie would let her have one joint to celebrate. After all, if she lasted that long, it would prove she was over her addiction, right?

            Britta yawned, and was about ready to go to bed when her phone beeped. She wandered over to her sofa to get it, and read the text message:

[unknown user]> julia? r u there? it's winston

            Britta blinked. Julia? Winston? It had to be a wrong number. She turned to head back to her room, but then realization struck her, she gasped, and tripped over the end of her sofa, falling to the floor while still managing to hold the cell phone screen in front of her face.

            Could it be…? No one else would call her that. But…it was impossible! After all this time, could he really be contacting her? If she hadn’t flushed the pot herself, Britta would’ve sworn she was high and dreaming this.

            Typing carefully, fingers trembling, Britta replied:

Britta> do u remember the blanket town?

[uu]> it was the pillow fort. can never forget.

 

The Save Greendale Committee meetings bored Duncan to tears, but he persevered for two reasons. The first was that this was about the only socialization he had anymore. The few friends he’d made at Greendale had all managed to find better careers in his absence, save for Jeff. It might be pathetic to hang out with students, a washed-up cop, and a raving-mad Chinese man, but beggars can’t be choosers, and it was better than being lonely.

            The second reason was sitting across the table from him, her blond hair cascading across her shoulders, almost reaching her perfect knockers. _Oh Britta_ , he mused. _If only you knew what you and your bosom do to me!_

            Jeff caught the line of his sight and hissed to Chang, “Kick Duncan for me.”

           The math instructor immediately did as asked, and when Duncan gave him an offended look, he pointed at Jeff, who, in turn, glared at him disapprovingly. Duncan pouted. Why did his friend have to be such a buzzkill?

            “Well, Chang,” Shirley was saying. “If you really think you can deal with the baseball diamond by yourself, that’s fine, but we can always hire professional help.”

            The math teacher scoffed. “Pfft, you’re talking to the man who chased down a monkey in an air vent! I can handle a few badgers.” Under his breath he mumbled, “I just need to contact my dynamite supplier…”

            Jeff was still able to hear him. “Your _what_?!”

            “I mean, my time of night supplier!” Chang laughed nervously. “You know, ’cause, badgers, they’re nocturnal.”

            “Is there any other business?” Annie asked, tapping her paper stars so they lined up neatly. Hickey shrugged, Abed and Rachel shook their heads, and Britta, for some reason, seemed to be barely paying attention. Annie gave a long sigh, obviously disappointed that they’d only managed to address two issues, the badgers in the baseball diamond and the installation of the recently-purchased fire alarms. “Well, in that case, I call this meeting to a close.”

            “Seconded,” Jeff called, already rising from his chair. “I hope you all have fun plans for this weekend, because I’ve been told I have tests to grade.” He glared at Annie, who gave him a smug smile.

            As everyone began to leave, Duncan elbowed Jeff. “Let me know when Annie cuts your leash, we can pub crawl again.”

            “How about I go to your place and we limit you to one bottle?”

            He glanced over his shoulder to where Britta was still sitting at the table, staring off into space. “Throw in a few tips on Britta, and you have a deal.”

            “You mean other than ‘don’t date her’?” When Duncan gave him a withering look, Jeff sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Fine! Since you’re not going to drop this, we can talk over drinks. That work for you?”

            Duncan grinned. “Excellently.”

            Once out of the study room, everyone separated, and Duncan began walking back towards his office, a slight skip in his step.

            “Wait, Professor Duncan?”

            He turned to see Britta approaching him, and his mild optimism after Jeff’s promise began to expand into hopefulness. “Ah yes, Britta, need some advising?”

            “It’s not about that.” She glanced over her shoulder, making sure they were alone. “I need you for… something else.”

            Duncan gaped, then pinched himself hard.

            “What was that for?”

            “Just making sure I’m not dreaming. Oh Britta, you have no idea how I’ve longed to hear—”

            “You have a car, right?”

            “Oh, I can take you anywhere you need to go, baby.”

            “Good. Because I can’t trust Jeff with this. They know his connection to me.”

            Duncan was starting to get confused. “Er, hang on a second, who are we talking about here? I mean, _everyone_ knows about how you and Jeff ‘connected,’ I don’t see how that’s relevant to us--”

            “They could be watching us right now! You weren’t here third year when they tried to get a foothold at Greendale, and they may not know you’re part of our group now. You’re my only chance to help him.”

            “All right, now I really have _no_ idea what you on earth you’re talking about. Help _who_?”

            Britta’s face suddenly turned warm and beautiful. “The love of my life: Subway.”

            He blinked. “Hold on, the love of your life is a deli sandwich franchise?”

            “He was their corpohumanoid representative. His real name is… _Rick_.”

            She’d said it with an almost sigh, unbefitting his incredibly ordinary name. Rick. The word was a needle puncturing his balloon of euphoria.

            “Oh. Well. I suppose you must have had quite a few adventures while I was gone. I don’t see how I can help…”

            “He contacted me. After almost two years, I finally know where he is. I need you to take me to him. It might potentially be risky but…” Her face was distraught. “You’re the only one I can turn to.”

            Now here was a moral quandary. What might Britta be willing to do to save her true love? Oh, no, not _that_ , he wasn’t that much of a lecher, but maybe a date…? But she looked so desperate, and Duncan felt a stab of guilt. Whatever was going on was clearly important to her, and blackmailing her would guarantee that their first date would be their last. Whereas, if he proved himself by helping her…

            “All right. I’ll do it. But just this once.”

            “Oh thank you!” Britta cried, and hugged him, and Duncan thought about cricket so that the situation didn’t get even more awkward. “Let’s go!”

            “Now?”

            “Yes. The longer we wait, the greater the chance that they’ll find his location!”

            Britta grabbed his arm and began pulling him toward the exit.

            “Now hold on a minute, you still haven’t said what’s going on or why I’m involved in this mess. If I’m to help, I demand an explanation.”

            “I’ll tell you on the way. Where’s your car?”

            “Uh, over there.” He pointed down the parking lot to his small car.

            “Great!” Britta began walking faster, and Duncan jogged to keep up. “Do you have a screwdriver?”

            “I keep a small repair kit in the car, but I don’t see why—”

            “We need to take your license plates off.”

            “All right, stop.” Duncan slammed to a halt, and Britta slowed, turning away from her single-minded forward focus to look at him. “What in bloody hell is going on?”

            Britta again checked their surroundings, before leaning in to explain. “Look, our third year, Subway appointed a human representative to attend Greendale so they could open a shop on campus.”

            “That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard.”

            “Tell me about it. Anyway, Subway – Rick – and I had a…” she shifted awkwardly. “Well, we had an instant connection, let’s just put it that way. But the company found out, and they took him away to who-knows-where.”

            “And he just contacted you?”

            “Late last night. He wouldn’t give me all the details, but he needs my help. _Our_ help. And I don’t want to get you in trouble, so I thought we should make sure your car couldn’t be identified.”

            “Oh. Well, thank you for the consideration.” Duncan was a bit incredulous about the story. Evil deli corporations hunting them down? Was this a prank? Were there cameras somewhere?

            Britta seemed dead serious, however, pulling his toolbox out from under the front seat and grabbing the screwdriver.

            “Wait!” Duncan shouted, and Britta paused, screwdriver inserted into screw. “There’s no point in us being stopped by the police before you save your sandwich-themed boyfriend. We’ll take them off somewhere closer to where we meet him.”

 

About half an hour later they rolled into the semi-abandoned warehouse district near the edge of town. Britta’s heart was pounding from the excitement of actually _doing_ something to strike against the capitalist machine. It had been years since she’d even made the effort, and now she was back in the thick of things. Duncan looked less thrilled, and kept muttering about what might happen if they were caught.

            “There are bigger issues here,” she told him, as they finally arrived at the address Subway – no, Rick, she had to get used to thinking of him that way – had sent to her. It looked no different from the other warehouses around, only slightly more decrepit and abandoned. “Who knows what secrets he’s uncovered? We could be blowing a massive conspiracy wide open!”

            “Or, he could just need some cash. Exes are known for doing that.”

            “Hey, if I wanted snark, I would’ve figured out a way to bring Jeff,” she snapped back. “Come on, I think this door is open.”

            Inside, the floor was littered with broken glass, fallen plaster, and the remains of cardboard boxes. Light filtered in from windows half-boarded up. Both Duncan and Britta scrunched their noses at the smell.

            “Psst! Britta!”

            She turned, and peering out from the doorway of the small office in the corner of the room was him, Rick, Subway, it didn't matter. Britta ran towards him, and he towards her, and they met in an intense embrace. He smelled absolutely awful, like he hadn’t bathed in weeks, but she didn’t care, he was alive, and free, and together they were going to take down his corporate handlers!

            Duncan coughed uncomfortably, and they separated. Rick looked at the British man suspiciously. “Who’s he?”

            “Oh, don’t worry, he’s cool. His name’s Ian Duncan, he’s a professor at Greendale.”

            “Are you sure he can be trusted?” Britta realized that Rick was shaking, and as she looked closer at him, she realized he wasn’t just unbathed, but also thin and underfed.

            “Yes! He’s my adviser, and a friend. Well, a friend of a friend, but you can trust him, calm down.”

            “I’m sorry,” he apologized. His knees were wobbly, so Britta helped him take a seat on the floor. “I’m just jumping at shadows all the time. The things I’ve _seen_ , Britta” His eyes went wide, and he looked back and forth between her and Duncan. “Subway doesn’t just want to control the deli sandwich industry. They’re bent on nothing less than world domination. And I’ve seen how they plan to do it.”

_The vault of the chamber had to be at least a hundred feet high, but buried here, deep underground in the Rocky Mountains, no one would notice it. The small franchise that served as its front had draw Rick’s attention due to the unusually high security for a small-town sandwich deli. Yes, he may have signed a nondisclosure agreement that he would never mention his time as Subway’s corpohumanoid representative, nor make any contact with anyone who knew him by that name… but he couldn’t silence his own conscience, his own suspicions of Subway's true intentions._

_Now, standing on the catwalk looking down at the vastness of the site, he felt overwhelmed. Rick had never imaged that there was anything like this going on. It was worth the hours he’d spent creeping through vents and those two security guards he’d chloroformed._

_Standing in the center of the room, at least sixty feet high, was a robotic monstrosity. Four legs held up a huge, spherical body, with a turret on top. Inside the turret, he could see a seat and controls, clearly designed for a human pilot. It was still under construction, and workers were assembling and moving enormous cannons on the floor below. When it was completed, it would undoubtedly have the firepower to take out entire city blocks – a mobile weapon of mass destruction._

_He’d barely had time to snap a photo with his cell phone when he was spotted. The sight of armed guards, dressed in white, yellow, and green, running towards him with guns aimed was enough to send Rick running. He took one last look over his shoulder before diving back into the vents, no longer caring whether anyone heard him, just wanting to get away with his life._

_In that final glance, his eyes were caught by one feature: on the side of the machine, in large bock script, were the letters “CC.”_

  _  
_

“I don’t know what it stood for,” Rick confessed. “But I think it may be whoever it is they’re building the robot for.”

            “CC…” Britta ruminated.

            “Cubic centimetre?” Duncan offered.

            Britta snapped her fingers. “The Chamber of Commerce! I _knew_ America’s corporate interests were up to sinister plans! This is the world _Citizens United_ has created!”

            “I’m pretty sure they’re _US_ CC,” said Rick.

            “Well, doi, they’d drop the ‘US’ if they were going to take over the government!”

            They didn’t have time to debate any further, because just then they heard the screech of wheels outside, followed by doors opening and dozens of feet hitting the sidewalk. The three shared panicked looks.

            “Were you followed?”

            “How should I know? I’m not exactly an expert on this espionage business you two've dragged me into!”

            “Get to the car, now!” Britta shouted, and they ran across the room, making it to the exit just as armed men dressed in Subway’s colors broke in from the other side. Britta slammed the door behind them, dragging a crate to block it, while Duncan and Rick ran for the car. Rick crawled into the barely-existent backseat. Duncan fumbled with the keys as he attempted to start the puttering engine.

             Britta raced to the car after them, vaulting over the front before scrambling in the passenger seat beside Duncan. “Go! Go!”

            “I’m going as fast as I can!” The engine had finally started, and the tiny car lurched off down the road. Britta peered out the back window just in time to see Subway’s mercenaries kick down the door. When they saw the fleeing car, their leader gestured and they ran back inside.

            “I think they’re going for their vehicles,” Rick shouted at Duncan.

            “Oh, _bollocks_ ,” he groaned, making a sharp turn onto another alley. “I don’t know if we can lose them in this thing!”

            “On the plus side,” Rick continued, “I don’t think they saw your faces. If we ditch the car…”

            “Ditch my car?! Are you out of your bloody mind?!”

            “I’ve been siphoning off the account of my corpohumanoid successor for the last two years. I think he knows, but Jake’s come to regret his decision as much as I have.”

            “In plain English, you nutter!”

            “I can buy you a new car!”

            There was another screech of tires behind them as the Subway vehicles pulled into view. “Oh, we are jolly well buggered now.”

            “Duncan, please, don’t give up!”

            He turned to look at Britta’s pleading face, and a sudden burst of courage filled his veins. Gripping the wheel and licking his lips, he felt the gears shift as he accelerated. “Hold onto your pants. This is about to get wild.”

            Duncan made use of his smaller car’s maneuverability, weaving his way through the labyrinthine warehouse district, making sharp turns that sent his passengers careening about the car. It kept them far enough ahead of their pursuers' larger trucks that they made it safely to the highway that led out of town towards Denver. Once on the main thoroughfare, Duncan floored the gas pedal, causing both Britta and Rick to let out little screams. “Sorry!” Duncan apologized loudly, over the roar of the straining engine.

            Britta looked out the back window again. “Crap, they’re gaining on us!”

            “Don’t worry! I have a plan!” and with that, he twisted the wheel, driving them off the road and into the scrub. Every bump they hit sent all three of them flying, heads nearly hitting the roof of the car.

            “What the hell are you doing?!” Britta screamed in terror.

           “You wanted me to ditch the car, I’m ditching the bloody car! Britta, grab my license and registration out of the glove compartment. Rick, Subway, whoever you are, get those license plates on the back seat. And when I give the signal, you need to open the doors and _jump_!”

            Britta and Rick shared panicked looks, but they reached out and held hands tightly. Duncan saw the gesture in his peripheral vision, and felt an unpleasant prick of jealousy. A low-hanging tree branch against the windshield brought his attention back to the task at hand.

            “All right, here we go!” he shouted. “Three…two…one… JUMP!”

            He didn’t take his foot off the pedal until the moment he thrust the door open, dived out, and hit the ground rolling. Duncan was slightly stunned from the impact, but he could see his car continue on – right over the cliff and into the river beyond.

            Shaking his head, and nursing a bruised shoulder, Duncan struggled to his feet, looking around for Britta and Rick, hoping he hadn’t just killed the both of them. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw both of them safe and struggling to rise from their jump.

            Their reprieve was cut short by the sound of brush breaking behind them, as the Subway trucks made their way towards the river.

            Britta took the lead. “Come on! I know this area from our St. Patrick’s Day camping trip!”

            The three of them ran into the forest, ignoring their aches. They followed Britta through the trees for what felt like hours to Duncan’s burning lungs, but was probably closer to fifteen minutes. Finally the pain from their landing forced them to take a rest, and they listened for signs of their pursuers over their belabored breathing.

            “I think we may have lost them for the moment,” Rick gasped. “But they’ll figure out we weren’t in the car soon enough. And if they surround the forest…”

            “I know a shortcut. There’s a cave that leads out of the woods.” Britta took a deep breath and began moving again, this time at a limping walk. Sure enough, not far ahead they found a dark, narrow opening in the ground. Britta squeezed through first, and Duncan helped Rick down after her before lowering himself last. It was cold, and damp, and not for the first time this afternoon Duncan wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

            “We had flashlights last time,” Britta explained as they fumbled through the dark. “It was actually a pretty cool adventure. I should tell you the full story sometime.”

            “Jeff told me already,” said Duncan. “Including the part about what you two _did_ in this cave…”

            “I was talking to Rick.”

            “I remember Jeff vaguely. Are you two…?”

            “This was before I met you, Rick.” Her voice was cloyingly sweet. Duncan was glad the darkness concealed his eye roll.

            After a long, stumbling journey they reached the exit, which Duncan was surprised to discover was actually in one of the parks just within Greendale’s city limits. In the waning light, they took a good look at each other, bruised and filthy from their ordeal. A few children playing in the park gawked at them before their parents shooed them away.

            “Well,” Duncan finally said, clearing his throat. “Shall I order us a cab?”

            The ride to his house was long and awkward. None of them talked about what they’d just been through, but Britta and Rick had their hands clasped, staring deeply into each other eyes. Their third wheel paid for the fare.

            Rick must have been running on pure adrenaline during their pursuit, because Britta had to help carry him into Duncan’s house. When she helped him to the living room couch, he collapsed and immediately fell asleep.

            “Now listen, Britta, he is _not_ staying here.”

            “Duncan, please,” Britta implored him. “I can’t exactly take him to my place. I'm the first person in Greendale they'd suspect.”

            “When I agreed to this, I’d assumed it was simply a ride. I did not know I would be chased by armed goons, crash my car into a river, and have an uninvited guest!”

            “It’s not permanent. I swear I’ll find a safe place for him. I still know the numbers of a few of my anarchist buddies, I can work something out.”

            Duncan hesitated.

            “I’m sorry to do this to you. I didn’t know how serious this really was until those guards burst in. I’d assumed he had secrets about lobbying or bribes or the usual crap corporations try to pull. This is heavier than I ever expected, and I _need your help_.”

            “You don’t mean to tell me you _believe_ this nonsense about giant robots?”

            “I didn’t at first, but then we had mercenaries try to hunt us down. Right now, I’d believe anything.”

            He waffled. On the one hand, he had no reason to risk his own skin for some kook he’d just met today, and those guards had looked rather terrifying. On the other hand, there was Britta. And all the strange things he’d been feeling about her since that moment in the car.

            “This is _temporary_ ,” he said firmly.

            “Oh thank you!” She jumped up from the couch and hugged him tightly. “This means so much to me.” She pulled back and smiled at him. “You know this makes you possibly the most awesome friend I’ve ever had, right?”

            “It had better,” he replied, trying to smile back.

            After she left, he flopped into his easy chair, watching Rick sound asleep, oblivious to the seething look Duncan was giving him.

            “Oh, I hate you so much, you lucky bastard.”

 

“I hate this so much!” Troy screamed, as he clung to the mast of the rechristened _Childish Tycoon_. They’d met a late-season storm as they neared the west coast of Africa, and it had been battering them for almost two days straight. Troy had taken all of one class on seafaring while he was Greendale, and it hadn’t included high winds and scouring rain.

            “Hold on, I’ve almost got it tied!” LeVar shouted to him over the gale. He fastened the rope holding the sail tightly furled. Another wave hit, and they both fell to the deck, scrambling to hold onto anything that might keep them from going overboard as the boat tilted more than 60 degrees.

            Troy had never been more scared in his life. The pirate thing had been kind of exhilarating, but he was seriously freaked that he would not make it out of this alive. Troy had thought about dying before, when things had gotten bad at Greendale, which was actually pretty regularly. He didn't know what would happen next, whether he'd go to heaven, whether there'd be puppies there (there'd better be; how much would heaven suck if there weren't puppies?), but mostly he knew he might never see his friends again.

            Another surge tossed their boat, and Troy used that fear to fight against the pull of the sea: he wasn't going to die before he got back to Greendale.

            _Homing pigeon DNA_ , he thought to himself, _don't fail me now_.


	7. Alone Among the Couples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A disclaimer: Shirley's view of homosexuality and Hickey's opinion on the great state of Iowa do not reflect my own.

            This is what Shirley saw the Tuesday before Thanksgiving break:

            First there was Abed and Rachel. She ran into them as she walked through the second floor hall, and came to a halt, flabbergasted. They were both clearly dressed in the other’s clothes, right down to Abed wearing Rachel’s glasses. When she stopped in front of them, they both squinted at her. “Is that you, Shirley?”

            “It is. Uh… you mind telling me what’s going on here?”

            “Yesterday you said we were gender-switched versions of each other,” Rachel explained. “I don’t think I’m a perfect distaff counterpart of Abed, but we decided to test it out anyway.”

            “The glasses may have been taking it too far,” Abed added. “Rachel has a pretty strong prescription.”

            “Can you point us to room 233? We’re having trouble reading the signs.”

            Shirley was still looking at them incredulously, but pointed down the hall. As they walked off, Shirley muttered to herself, “Googly eyes…”

            Down the stairs and around a corner, she caught Annie and Jeff talking to each other quietly. Shirley stayed back out of view, but leaned in to eavesdrop on what they were saying.

            “You can always back out, Annie. There’s no rule saying you have to spend Thanksgiving with your family.”

           “I know, but it’s Thanksgivukkah this year, and that’s not going to happen again for like eighty thousand years. I’ll grin and bear it for the gelt.” She brushed her hair out of her face. Shirley had noticed that Annie was wearing it down more often lately. “If you get lonely, you can always text me.”

            “How about next year you ditch them and we have Thanksgiving together?”

            “Really?”

            “Why not?”

            “Okay.” She smiled and held out a hand. “It’s a deal.”

            He shook hers, and Shirley counted five seconds before they both let go.

            “Anyway,” Annie went on, “I’ll be spending at least some of this weekend working on my final paper. Do you want to know my topic?”

            “Save it for class like a normal student, Annie.”

            They began to walk away, and Shirley came out of hiding. “Googly eyes…”

            She stopped by the library to pick up a book. Pacing quietly through the stacks, she had to pause again when she saw Professor Duncan and Britta in a corner. They were standing close together, whispering, and occasionally casting wary glances over their shoulders. Britta passed Duncan a note with a soft smile, and he coughed uncomfortably as he tucked it in his pocket. Then they both went off quickly in opposite directions.

            “Googly eyes…” she grumbled.

            Wait.

            _Googly eyes!?_ Duncan and Britta? When had _that_ started? She could understand Rachel and Abed. Those two were peas in a pod. Jeff and Annie, she supposed, were opposites attracting, which could either end in disaster or a happily ever after. But what on earth did Britta see in that man? He was her advisor, a drinker, and hornier than a Texas toad. Didn’t she have more sense?

            Of course, yesterday, she might’ve been happy to see all her little chicks finding mates. But that was before she got her mail, with the envelope. It weighed heavy in her bag, and she knew she’d have to make a decision about it soon.

            Right now, though, she was going to be late for her business class if she didn’t hurry.

 

The meeting that afternoon didn’t accomplish much other than everyone sharing their vacation plans.

            “I’m going to my mom’s house to celebrate Thanksgiving and Hanukkah at the same time,” Annie beamed. “It won’t happen again in our lifetimes.” She gulped behind her smile. “And neither will my mom asking me to visit, so hopefully it’ll be a good time.”

            “Dinner with family can be tough,” Abed agreed. “My dad is inviting over his entire side of the family. Thanksgiving food is all halal, so it’s always been his favorite holiday. I suppose it must also be kosher, so overlapping with Hanukkah works out well.”

            “I’m doing the Thankgivnunanukkah thing with my brother too,” Chang added. He sniffled. “I miss Latin Thanksgiving. Regular turkey is so bland.”

            “I’m taking a bus to Denver this afternoon, then flying back to Minnesota to see my family and a few friends from my old college. Pretty much the same thing I do every year. Nothing special.” Rachel turned to Hickey. “What about you?”

            “My son just had a baby,” said Hickey in his raspy voice, and everyone looked at him surprised. He shrugged. “We don't see each other much. But I get to come over and meet the grandkid this weekend.”

            “Professor Hickey, that is great news. It's way better than my plans. I’m stuck visiting my grandmother’s house, again. Which means more questions about when I’m going to finally get married, and how I should freeze my eggs because the clock is ticking.” Britta rolled her eyes.

            “Jeff,” Shirley asked, “Do you have anything special planned?”

            “Nope. Last year’s confrontation with my father was all the family drama I need for a lifetime. I can eat turkey and watch football by myself just fine.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at Duncan. “Actually, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?”

            “I’m sorry, but I don’t celebrate your silly made-up American holidays.”

            “Then why I don’t I come over to your place for that drink we were planning?”

            Duncan froze, his eyes widening. “Um… um, yes, well, that’s not a great idea right now, I think, er, I’ve got a leak of some sort, tell you what, why I don’t I go to _your_ apartment. We could do it this evening, even.”

            Now it was Jeff’s turn to freeze, him and everyone else at the table who knew why that would be a bad idea. “Um…” he caught Annie’s eye, and she held up seven fingers behind Duncan’s back. “If you come by around seven, it should be cool. I just need some time to clean up.” Annie gave him a thumbs-up, and everyone relaxed.

            “Shirley?” Annie asked cheerfully, even though her nerves were still a bit rattled from their close call. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

            Her older friend shifted in her seat. “Well, the boys are going to see Andre’s family this year.” She cleared her throat and made herself smile. “But my church is joining the interdenominational Thanksgiving dinner for the first time, so I’ll be busy with that. Our new preacher’s a bit of a liberal. Reverend Marcus would never have had us working with Catholics.”

            “My family’s Catholic,” Rachel volunteered.

            “Oh. That’s nice.”

            “So all the churches get together at Thanksgiving to, what, feed the homeless?”

            “Well, Britta, anyone who can’t afford Thanksgiving dinner is welcome. It’s free, and we donate all the food.” Shirley grinned, this time enthusiastically. “I’m making the pies.”

            Britta was thinking hard. “So… how Jesus-y is this thing?”

            “I suppose there’ll be a prayer at the start, but it’s twenty different groups and we all think everyone else is a false church, so it should be at a minimum. If you wanted to help, I mean. We could always use some extra hands.”

            “Huh. Do I want to spend my Thanksgiving with my family, or helping a bunch of strangers feed those in need? Oh who am I kidding, that’s not even a choice. Give me the information and promise me you won’t tell anyone I’m an atheist. One attempt at proselytizing, and I am out the door.”

            “You’re secret’s safe with me, Britta.”

            “Okay then! As committee chair, I call us officially closed for today. Come back on Monday with some ideas for removing the racist stained glass, and I think we’ll be good!”

 

Back in his office, Hickey packed up his drawings for the weekend. He had another publisher lined up, and he was sure that the eighth time was the charm. It’s not like he had anything better to do for the next few days. Yeah, he was going to see his grandson. On the Wednesday _before_ Thanksgiving. For fifteen minutes. And only because his son’s partner had insisted, not because he was really welcome. But none of _them_ needed to know that. The last thing Hickey wanted from anyone was pity.

            He patted his pockets and realized his keys weren’t there. A quick search around his desk made him decide he must have dropped them somewhere in the school. Hickey began retracing his steps, glad that the halls were mostly empty by this time of the day. He had to go all the way back to the study room before he saw the glint of his keys between his chair and the leg of the table.

            He started for them, and then realized Shirley was still sitting at the table. She was looking at papers that were half-pulled out of a large brown envelope. When she saw him, she quickly slid them back inside, but not before Hickey read the heading of the top page. He averted his eyes, pretending he hadn’t seen.

            “I, uh, I dropped my keys there.” He pointed to where they’d fallen.

            Shirley looked down and picked them up for him. “Here you go.”

            Hickey took them, and almost turned to go, but Shirley heaved a deep sigh. He recognized what that meant. His first two wives had been passive-aggressive as hell. “You wanna talk?”

            “Oh, it’s nothing, really.” Shirley slipped the envelope into her bag and fiddled with the strap. “It’s just that… this is the first Thanksgiving I’m going to be away from my boys, and I’ve been awfully tired worrying about them.”

            Hickey took a seat next to her, folding his arms across his chest. “Yeah, well, this is my first time seeing my kid at Thanksgiving since my second wife got a restraining order against me. So if you think you’ve got stress, try being in my shoes.”

            “But he and his wife had a baby?”

            “He and his _partner_ adopted.”

            “So your son is…?” she looked at him expectantly.

            “Gay as the fourth of July.”

            “Oh. Well, that’s nice, I suppose.”

            “You don’t have to pretend around me. Five years after he came out, and I’m still not sure I get it.”

            “In my church we just consider that sort of thing unnatural.”

            “I don’t know about that, but the cost of their damn wedding sure as hell is. And I’ve gotta go all the way to Iowa if I want to attend. Iowa! What’s even _in_ Iowa, corn and cows?”

            Shirley laughed, and Hickey chuckled with her. “Every family’s a little strange, I suppose.”

            “Yeah.” Hickey watched her smile fade back into sadness. “You know, the whole planning a gay wedding thing has made me think about this marriage business. Sometimes you fall into it by accident. My first wife, we got married right before I was deployed, a total spur-of-the-moment decision. Well, you can imagine how that ended.”

            “Mmm, no.”

            “I came back, and she’d found somebody else while I was gone. Then the second wife, well, that was my fault. I’ve got a temper, and it took me a while to learn how to control it. Don’t get me wrong, I never raised a hand against her, but I sure as hell raised by voice, and after she threw me out, I didn’t exactly accept it graciously the way I should’ve.”

            “So, you’ve been married twice?”

            “Three times.” A shadow passed over his face. “My third wife died.” He took a deep breath. “The thing is, everybody thinks they should get married ’cause they’re in love, or they wanna have kids, or something else that won't last. You live together long enough, you can’t be in love anymore, you have kids but then what’s next? The way I see it, those are all the wrong reasons. I mean, look at the gays. Why do they want to get married? So they can visit their partners in the hospital and file taxes together.”

            Shirley looked confused. “Well, yes, I’ve heard that. And I do support civil unions, I just don’t want to redefine marriage.”

            “But see, that’s what marriage _is_. It’s finding someone you trust to take care of you.” Hickey leaned in over the table. “Both of my divorces happened because we didn’t trust each other enough anymore to make those decisions about our money, or our health, or our kids.”

            Hickey could see in her eyes that she finally understood where he was going. “But I—”

            He reached out and poked her bag. “Take it from a man who’s been there twice. Divorce is a godawful mess, but sometimes marriages are just over. And you gotta move on.”

            Shirley bit her lip, and tears began welling up in her eyes. “I feel like such a failure.”

            “You’re not. You got three beautiful children and a business of your own. Everyone else here is a manchild, or a dropout, or a loser compared to you. Want my advice?”

            She nodded.

            “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Fight for your kids.”

            That started the waterworks, and Hickey sat back somewhat uncomfortably as he let her cry for a few minutes. He didn’t know Shirley too well, and she had to be at least twenty years his junior, but she was the only one on the committee who he felt was a real adult. All the others were stuck in their stupid unresolved romances or playing pretend games like they were still in preschool. And it had felt good to let all this crap out to someone who could actually understand.

            After she calmed down, he said, “Hey, you want to go out or something? I can buy you a drink. God knows _I’m_ going to need it before this weekend.”

            Shirley shook her head. “I can have a drink when I’m in a good mood and be fine. But if I’m in a dark place, I have a hard time stopping. It’s my cross to bear.”

            Hickey pursed his lips. “Well, there’s some kiddy place I heard about. What’s it called, Pegleg Pablo’s? They got virgin mudslides or something. Shakes, but they treat ’em as if they’re drinks.”

            “That’s my favorite place in town.”

            “Thought it might be.”

 

Annie had only left the apartment for fifteen minutes when Duncan arrived early. As he opened the door, Jeff really hoped they hadn’t run into each other in the hall. From his friend’s lack of reaction, he took it their secret was still safe.

            “I hope you haven’t eaten already, because I ordered takeaway.” He held up two boxes of Chinese carry out.

            “Ooh, MSG-riffic,” Jeff replied. He let Duncan in and his friend set the food down on the table in front of the couch.

            “I don’t think I emphasized enough the last time I was here how much I want to kill you and steal this apartment,” Duncan went on. “My house may be larger, but it’s a shambles. I only hope my mother leaves me something when she finally kicks the bucket, and then maybe I can afford something this nice.” He glanced around the room. “Where’s the booze?”

            “The fridge. I’ve got scotch, but with Chinese, beer is probably a better idea.”

            Jeff headed for the kitchen, while Duncan opened up the first box of Chinese and started to dig in. “Is it all right if I turn on the telly to find a match?”

            “If you’re looking for soccer, I don’t have that much of a cable package anymore.” Jeff brought over two beers and a bottle opener, cracking one open and handing it to his friend.

            “Bother. Well, I suppose we can find something else suitably mind-numbing to while away the hours.” Duncan took a long swig from his bottle.

            “So, as promised,” Jeff said, sitting down beside him a little hesitantly. “Britta. I spent a whole year trying to get her, and I _still_ didn’t manage to keep her, so I don’t know what kind of hints you want from me—”

            “Jeff, this really isn’t necessary.”

            “Right, yeah, no disclaimers, I'll just get straight to it. You can get involved in some cause she’s interested in, but try to make it something you care a bit about too, because she can sniff out a phony pretty quickly. Unless you’re just in this for a hook-up, in which case go right ahead. If that doesn’t work—”

            “No, stop, really, I don't need this. I’ve…” Duncan tapped his bottle against his knee absently. “I’ve given up on that.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes.”

            “After begging and whining for me to help you get Britta, you’ve just… given up on her?”

            “For the time being, yes.”

            “Huh.” Jeff leaned back. “Well, good. My final hint was actually going to be ‘give up,’ so you beat me to it.”

            “All right, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” Duncan gripped his bottle so hard that for a moment Jeff thought he was going to hit him with it. “I should’ve known! I should’ve known you would never deign to _really_ support me in my pursuit of her, you self-absorbed little twit!”

            “Oh, come on, Duncan! You just said you’d given up!”

            “I hadn’t when you came up with this little speech.”

            “What is wrong with you? Are you so desperate you really want _my_ sloppy seconds?”

            “If I had to avoid your sloppy seconds, Jeff, I’d be denied half the women in this city. Do you know what your problem is? You’re jealous. No, don’t argue, you are! You may not _want_ Britta, but you don’t want _me_ to have her. You don’t think I deserve her. Because your vanity won’t allow you accept that a less attractive man might wind up with the kind of gorgeous woman you get to bang _all the bloody time_!”

            Jeff wanted to protest, but there was a sinking feeling in his stomach.

            Okay. So maybe it was true. Maybe he _did_ consider Duncan a step down for Britta, not just from him but from Troy. Maybe, after he’d accused Britta of being shallow when it came to relationships, he was even worse about it himself. Maybe he deserved to feel as guilty as he did right now.

            “You know what? Forget it,” Duncan said, breaking the awkward silence. “I’m not after her anymore, so let’s talk about something other than our depressing lack of love lives.”

            “Like what?” Jeff muttered, trying not to make eye contact.

            “I don’t know. Anything. How about your dream car? Mine had a bit of a breakdown, let’s say, and I’m in need of replacing it.”

            “Well, that would be an Alfa Romeo, obviously. Not that I’ll be able to ever afford one if I don’t get back into practicing law.”

            “Really? Huh. I thought for sure you’d go with something American, like a Corvette.”

            “What? Don’t be ridiculous, everyone knows Italians make the best sports cars.”

            “I’ve always wanted an Aston Martin, for obvious reasons.” Duncan twirled his bottle between his fingers. “Though recently I think I’d like to move away from anything ever involved in a car chase…”

            Jeff looked at his friend, slightly concerned. “Duncan, tonight may have proven I’m not the world’s best friend, but if something’s going on—”

            “I’m going to stop you right there,” Duncan interrupted. “I’m going to stop you because this has been driving me mad. Nobody in this entire campus calls me by my first name except for the dean when he’s upset with me, and I am getting sick of it. You’re not my lawyer anymore, or my student. You’re a colleague. And a friend. Even if you’re a rather shitty one sometimes.”

            “All right… Ian.” Jeff grimaced. “That will take some getting used to.”

            “You know what I’ve found off about the Craig reboot?” Duncan continued. “He’s never driven a Japanese car. I know they’re not as traditional, but if they’re going for realism, that’s all anyone drives nowadays, that and the Korean models."

            “I can't really see James Bond riding around in a Honda Civic.”

            “What about being chased by one? Or commandeering it? They'd show up somewhere. Did you know the only Japanese car they’ve ever had was in _You Only Live Twice_?”

            “It is either incredibly cool that you know that, or depressingly nerdy.”

            “I think it's rather a bit of both, actually.”

            Jeff laughed. “I guess Bond is the one franchise where being a geek about it makes you cool.”

            “You’re damn right.” He held up his bottle, and Jeff clinked it, and the night took a turn for the better.

 

The _Childish Tycoon_ had been adrift for a week, but LeVar and Troy were both still alive. How long they would last was unclear. They’d run out of food yesterday, and their GPS system had been damaged in the storm. All they could do was keep heading westward, tacking against the wind, and hope they hit land sometime soon.

            They had passed several boats, but after their experience with the pirates in the Gulf of Mexico, neither of them wanted to risk contacting strangers when they were floating defenseless.

            Troy kept them entertained by sharing stories about everything his study group had ever done during their years at Greendale. Admittedly Troy couldn’t exactly remember all the details, and for some things he wasn’t even there, but he had a good imagination (though not as good as Abed’s). His version of the Halloween party of 2010, for example, involved real zombies, who rose from their graves after Jeff read a cursed text message sent to him from an unknown number. They’d all killed the zombies, using light sabers he and Abed created, and then Agents K and J had come along and zapped their memories because the zombies were actually _aliens_.

           Talking too much dried out his throat, however, and as they ran low on water, he and LeVar slipped into silence, watching the horizon.


	8. Incompatible Orientations

There’s no better way to feel like a chump than to be hiding the lover of the woman you’re secretly lusting after. Ian Duncan felt like the mayor of Chumpopolis right about now, since he wasn’t just hiding him, he was making him supper.

            Rick was a gracious guest, though, he had to admit that. He cleaned up after himself and he didn’t hog the bathroom. Most days he spent all his time watching cable news channels, jotting down notes like a paranoid conspiracy theorist.

            Which he probably was. Duncan had seen the grainy cell phone picture that Rick had taken, and he had to admit it looked rather robot-ish. Combine that with the armed thugs, and he could perhaps accept that the Subway Corporation was up to no good. But he doubted that every news item contained secret clues as to their plans for world domination, which was what Rick seemed to believe.

            The only good thing about this arrangement was that, so far, Britta was too worried about Subway following her to come over and risk revealing Rick’s location. Which meant that, so far, they weren’t shagging in his house, which made Duncan very relieved. He’d be the president of Chumpania if it ever came to that.

            “If you can drag yourself away from that rubbish,” he called to Rick, who was in his usual spot in front of the television, eyes fixed on the screen, “then supper is ready.”

            The young fugitive reluctantly turned the volume down on the TV set and walked over to the cabinets. Without being asked, he set the table. A gracious guest, indeed. Duncan wanted to punch him.

            “American news is all bollocks, you know that, right? If you want, you can go watch proper news like the BBC on my computer. So long as you switch to sport every once in a while, no one will notice a pattern change.”

            “That’s okay,” Rick said politely as he sat down. “I barely pay attention to the main stories, it’s the feeds on the bottom that hold the hints.”

            “Oh, of course,” Duncan replied, humoring him. “And what plots have we uncovered today?”

            “Nothing concrete.” Rick was focused on reading through his notes. “What I really need is someone with hacking experience to investigate the inflow and outflow of money to a number of suspicious super-PACs. I don’t suppose you know anyone like that?”

            “Er, I have a VPN to watch British broadcasts, if that helps.”

            “Not really…”

            Duncan sighed and ate his casserole, watching Rick glumly. He was young and good-looking in that clear-skinned, boy band kind of way that made preteen girls throw their keys on stage, but a life on the run had left him looking weary and rugged and probably more handsome than ever to someone like Britta, and oh how Duncan _hated_ him.

            “Are you all right?”

            Duncan wiped the glare off his face. “It’s nothing. I was just wondering for the tenth time when I was finally going to be compensated for driving my car into a river to rescue you.”

            “I’m working on it,” Rick assured him. “In the meantime… I don’t know how I can express how truly grateful I am for how you’ve helped Britta and me.”

            “Why don't you express it by buying me a new car?"

            Rick chuckled at that and gave him a big, toothy smile that showed off all his American orthodontic work. “That was really amazing what you did for us, actually. Britta’s lucky to have someone she can trust as much as you.”

            _Oh, just twist the knife, why don’t you?_ “I suspect she only went to me because she didn’t have many other options. We’re not really close friends.”

            “But you went above and beyond the call of friendship! It was brave, and self-sacrificing. If we had more people like you in the world, then organizations like Subway wouldn’t stand a chance.”

            _I only did it because I want to bed your girlfriend, you numbskull_ , Duncan thought, but out loud he said “It’s not quite on the same level as sneaking into a secret base and taking covert photographs of whatever that thing was, I suppose, but if it helped you two…”

            “It did.” Rick poked his casserole wistfully. “I shouldn’t have gotten Britta involved in this mess. We only knew each other for a few days, but I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

            “Only a few days?” That was news. He’d assumed they’d had an extended affair during her third year.

            “Yes. We met, fell head over heels, and then I was taken away.”

            “What for?”

            Rick’s face suddenly turned bright pink, and Duncan decided he didn’t want to know.

            “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Britta loves being involved in things, especially if it's raging against the machine and all that. I’m sure she appreciates having a mission. She’d been in a bad place,” he added, nonchalantly, “since her break-up.”

            Rick froze. “Break-up?”

            “Oh, yes, didn’t she mention it? Last year she dated a friend of hers named Troy. A bit book-dumb, but rather good-looking and sweet-tempered. Also, nine years younger than her.”

            Rick relaxed a little. “Well, I’m twenty-seven, so maybe she just likes younger men.”

            _Damn_. Duncan was only a few years older than Britta, but still, not what he’d wanted to hear. Rick didn’t seem jealous or envious at all. He wondered again what was in the notes that Britta kept having him pass along. He _hoped_ it was information about getting Rick moved the hell out of his house. He feared it was sappy love notes, or worse, erotic ones. He’d been tempted every time to open and check, but didn’t know how he’d react to reading _that_ sort of thing from Britta.

            _I am the emperor of Chumpland_ , Duncan thought, miserably. But he supposed it could be worse.

            He could be Jeff.

 

“Ahem. ‘Oh no, we’re not dating, we’re just friends, good friends, grown-up friends! Let me ruffle her hair for you to prove it!’ See? How believable does that sound?”

            “I do not talk like that!” Jeff protested.

            “Yes, you do. I tried doing the same thing, until I got sick of it.”

            “And that’s why you tell people I’m your uncle?”

            “Exactly.”

            He twisted his face as though he’d eaten something sour. “And that isn’t even slightly creepy to you?”

            “Well, it helps that my mother was an only child, and I hardly ever saw my dad’s side of the family. You’re too old to be my brother, way too young to be dad. So ‘uncle’ it is.”

            “I still don’t like it.”

            They’d been out clothes shopping after Annie managed to ruin her nicest top by sticking it in the dryer on the wrong setting. At the first store, when a clerk had hesitated on labeling them a couple, Jeff had gone into his usual shtick, trying to justify their relationship in his suspicious-sounding way. Unsurprisingly, it had gotten them weird looks. When the same thing happened at the next store, Annie had jumped in and identified him as her Uncle Jeff, and the clerk had immediately been at ease. Jeff, however, was more than a little peeved.

            “I’m saying, I don’t _think_ of you as an uncle, because I barely know mine, I just _tell_ people that because it gets them off my case. Especially at school. I do _not_ want anyone thinking I’m sleeping with my professor.”

            “Well, I guess I don’t have any nieces, so it’s not _too_ gross. Still, it just… gah, it makes me feel so _old_ , Annie!”

            “People can be uncles at a really young age!”

            “But not of twenty-whatever-year olds!”

            “Oh wow, you can’t even remember my age? I may just have to tell the next store clerk you’ve kidnapped me at knifepoint.”

            Jeff was about to reply, when his eyes suddenly widened in terror and he shoved her behind a rack of clothes. “Stay down!”

            Baffled, Annie ducked slightly so her head was below the line of shirts. She was about to ask him what was going on when a loud voice rang through the store.

            “Jeffrey!”

            “Dean. Hi.”

            “Are you out shopping? I _love_ this store.”

            It was a woman’s clothing store, and for a moment Annie was confused as to why the dean would come here, then she facepalmed because _duh_.

            “Wait, Jeffrey, why are _you_ here?” A slightly gloating tone filled the dean’s voice. “Have you been keeping a little secret from us?”

            Annie gulped, her heart starting to race. She bit her lip to keep herself from squeaking.

            “If you _must_ know, I’m looking for a birthday gift for my mother.” Jeff could lie rather effortlessly when he wanted to. Annie was never sure how she should feel about that.

            “Yes, I get lots of things for my 'sister' here, too.” Annie peered through the shirts and saw the dean give Jeff a knowing wink. Oh, so _that’s_ what he meant by “little secret.” Annie rolled her eyes. How ridiculous. _Obviously_ nothing here was the right size for Jeff!

            “So, Jeffrey,” the dean continued. “We should spend another day out at the mall together. We had _such_ a good time when we did that.”

            “You know, I _would_ , but I have all these tests to finish grading, I just need to get my mom’s gift and go. Stores are closing soon, anyway.”

            “Oh,” and Annie could see the dean’s face turn crestfallen. “Well, some other time then? Maybe we could get the whole gang together to go to karaoke? I’ve heard they’ve expanded to have group-size boxes…”

            “We’ll have to see,” and Jeff began quickly walking out of the store.

            Annie kept down and started dodging in between the racks, hoping the dean wouldn’t notice her. She was in between an array of green skirts and one of blue cardigans when she heard swift footfalls, saw the dean coming towards her, and dove behind a table of folded sweaters. Huddled on the floor, she gave a _shhh_ sign to the startled patrons who were staring at her.

            “Wait, Jeffrey!” Annie peered around the edge of the table and this time she could only see Jeff’s face. “Jeffrey, I…I don’t mean to barge in on your plans. I just… I’ve missed the dynamic we had back when you all were a study group, and I could come by and visit you. You were always my favorites.”

            Jeff was holding his breath the way he usually did right before exploding, but Annie was impressed when he closed his eyes, let it out, and instead told the dean, “Well, I didn’t know you felt that way…”

            “And you never showed up to coach the water polo team!”

            “Tests. Grading them. See you tomorrow.” Jeff muttered between clenched teeth, and turned to walk out of the store even faster than before.

            Annie continued to creep towards the exit. As she glanced at him between lines of shirts and skirts, she couldn’t help but notice the dean looked rather sad and lonely, holding his Victoria Secret’s bag all by himself. Annie _almost_ thought about going over and saying hello to him, just to be friendly, but Jeff hissed at her from the store entrance.

            “Come _on_ , Annie, before he sees you!”

            “Jeff!” she said, as she caught up with him. “Couldn’t you see how disappointed he was?”

            “His problem, not mine.”

            Annie folded her arms across her chest and glared at her roommate. “Well, I feel sorry for him.”

            “Have him hit on you for years, and then see how much sympathy you have left.”

            “Well, Jeff, if you never just _tell_ him you’re not interested, how will he know to back off?”

            “Annie, do you like living with me?”

            She blinked, startled. She couldn’t remember Jeff ever saying it that way. It was always “sharing an apartment,” or “splitting rent.” “Of course I do! And I know, rent comes from job, job comes from the dean liking you, but I don’t think he’d fire you if you gently told him you’re not, you know, _gay_. It might actually help him confront some of his own denial.”

            “Solving people’s problems is your role in life, Annie, not mine. Mine is to lie and BS to protect my self-interest.”

            “Well, you weren’t the one who had to crawl on her hands and knees around a clothing store. At some point we’re not going to be able to hide that we’re living together, so I hope you have a Winger speech prepared when that happens.”

            Jeff didn’t look pleased. “Why don’t you just tell him I’m actually your uncle? That seems to be working so far.”

            “Jeff!” Annie caught his arm, made sure the dean wasn’t anywhere in sight, and pulled him behind one of the potted trees decorating the mall. “Are you _still_ upset about that?”

            “Yes! Annie, I feel uncomfortable enough about our age difference without knowing you invoke it on a regular basis!”

            “I’m not _invoking_ it, I only bring it up when other people already have and I don’t know how to tell them that you’re important to me and I care about you without making it seem all weird to people who don’t know us!” Annie’s voice cracked a little at the end. She saw Jeff start to get his guilty look, where his mouth became a straight line and he couldn’t meet her eyes. “There’s not a simple label for us. Not that anyone believes, anyway.”

            “We’re _friends_.”

            “I know, but… that doesn’t feel enough to explain how much you mean to me.” She noticed them that she was still holding his arm, but Jeff didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he stopped scowling and gave her a warm smile.

            “ _Best_ friends?”

            She smiled back. “The bestest.”

            They were both so absorbed in their moment, that they didn’t notice who was watching them from across the mall.

 

It was a Tuesday night, and no new movies would be coming out until that Friday (and none of them looked any good), so Abed was surprised when Rachel asked him out for a “surprise” that evening. He met her at the mall, in front of a closed storefront. She was dressed in faux-Romany style, sitting behind a table with a large sign reading “Free Tarot Readings.”

            “You can read tarot cards?”

            “Of course not. Nobody can. Fortune telling isn’t real. I can just read people well enough to make solid predictions about them.”

            Abed nodded. “Me too. Shirley once thought I was psychic because I started predicting unexpected things, like Jeff and Annie sharing a kiss.”

            “Speaking of which, I saw them here about an hour ago. They looked about two seconds away from kissing.”

            “But they didn’t?”

            “No.”

            Abed nodded again. “That sounds like Jeff and Annie.”

            “So,” Rachel said, as she began packing up her cards and sign. “Are you ready for your surprise?”

            “Not really. It would help if you gave me a hint about what it was.”

            “It’s something cool. I’ve been planning it for a while.”

            “That’s not very informative.”

            “Let me get changed into normal clothes and then we can talk some more.”

            Abed waited patiently for her to change in the women’s bathroom, watching the stores close up one by one. It was now past eight o’clock. He hoped the surprise was a midnight premiere of some sort. Or an all-night movie festival. It was the last week of classes, but the weather reports said they would have a massive blizzard sometimes tomorrow, so things might get cancelled.

            Rachel reemerged in jeans and a sweater, carrying a bag full of her fortune teller costume on one arm and her coat on the other. “Put on your coat. We have to walk a bit to get there.”

            Abed was puzzled, but he bundled up anyway as they left the mall into the freezing temperatures of early December in Colorado. They trudged alongside each other through the snow, the cutting wind forcing them to move quickly. “Can I have a hint now?”

            “That would ruin the surprise.”

            Abed was not a huge fan of surprises. Clone Abed, though, he could probably handle them. “Was the tarot reading fun?”

            “At first. Eventually it got too easy. Everyone asks the same questions and wants to know the same thing. Grades, jobs, romances. Especially romances. Everybody wants to know if they’re going to have sex or not. You give them basic advice and they think you’re psychic.”

            “Hmm.”

            “What is it?”

            “ _Everybody_ wants to know if they’re going to have sex or not?”

            “Once they’re past a certain age.”

            “This is why I would make a lousy boyfriend. The older I get, the more I realize everyone is much more interested in sex than me.”

            Rachel stayed quiet for a while after that. “You’re not interested in sex?”

           “It’s just not a high priority for me. I’m kind of like Jeff is with religion. I understand why people would want it, but I guess I’ve just never been with the right person in the right scenario to really consider it. Kissing is good. Kissing is _very_ good, and I notice when people are hot, like the way Annie’s boobs jiggle or how much Jeff must work out. Thus far, though, it always seems to stop there.”

            “That’s fine,” Rachel said with a shrug. “I mean, I can count on one hand the number of guys in real life – not in books or movies – that I’ve actually thought about having sex with. And none of them were interested in me.”

            “Am I one of them?”

            “You’re number five.”

            “I’m sorry that I don’t reciprocate.”

            “It was just a thought, not a big deal. I’ve always assumed we would be the Straight Will and Grace. If we’re the Asexual Will and Grace, that works too.”

            “Asexual. That makes me sound like a robot.”

            “This is the place,” Rachel said suddenly.

            She stopped him in front of a small white house with a small yard dominated by an enormous antenna. Rachel walked up the pathway to the entrance, Abed following her behind. He still didn’t know what the surprise was going to be, but the woman who opened the door was unexpected enough. She was a very short East Asian woman, maybe Japanese, and probably in her seventies. Her narrow eyes looked even tinier amidst her wrinkles, and she smiled warmly at them.

            “Thanks for letting us do this, Ms. Harada.”

            “It’s no problem!” she declared with a dismissive gesture. “Before, I never have any young person be interested in ham radio.”

            “Ham radio?” Abed froze on the doorstep.

            Rachel reached out and took his hand. “Come on. It’s your surprise.”

            Abed entered slowly, swallowing hard, worried that the extreme emotionality of Abed Prime was coming back in spite of Britta’s poor cloning technique. Rachel led him through a living room decorated with scores of wind chimes. An elderly Japanese man was sitting on the couch, and waved to the two of them as they walked by. In a back room was a large console set up with a microphone and countless knobs. Ms. Harada sat down gingerly and began adjusting settings. Meanwhile, Rachel took a set of headphones and placed them over Abed’s ears.

            “It’s almost 5 am on December 4th in Nigeria right now.”

            “Rachel, I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

            “Don’t be scared. It’s just proof that you’re _not_ a robot.”

            Abed gulped again, squeezing Rachel’s hand tightly. Setting the radio lasted a minute, during which Abed could hear static and random voices floating through the airwaves. When Ms. Harada located the channel, she smiled again and gave Abed an okay sign.

            He didn’t know what to say, but after too long a silence he finally managed “Hello?”

            From the other end was a familiar voice.

            “Clone Abed?”

 

Troy sat hunched over the radio that Mr. Bamidele had set up for him and LeVar. He’d been excited ever since the message had been relayed through LeVar’s agent, though he didn’t know who this “Rachel” person was. When he heard Abed’s voice through the radio, he felt like he could fly.

            “Clone Troy?”

            “Yeah. We’re in Lagos, can you believe it? We hit this huge-ass storm in the middle of the ocean, and then we were lost at sea, but we finally hit land in this place called Liberia, where they actually speak English, and we got our GPS fixed, then we came here to Nigeria, and we’re loading up with supplies, then heading down to South Africa. That could take a while, and this guy named Bamidele here is telling me we’ll be out of radio range soon.”

            Troy finally stopped talking, out of breath, and waited to hear Abed’s response to the news.

 

On the other end, Rachel watched as expressions ran across Abed’s face that she’d never seen before. His eyes kept darting back and forth, and his mouth was contorting. It was as if his strange little brain was trying to process emotions it wasn’t designed for.

            “H-happy birthday. How’s Africa?”

 

“It’s the _bomb_. Man, people here know how to throw a party! Though it _might_ have been a religious thing, it’s hard to tell. Both of ’em involve a lot of dances and drumming.”

            “Cool. Cool cool cool. Take photos, I’ll want to see them.”

            “Oh, for sure. And if I can get at an internet café somewhere or something I’ll put ’em on twitter or Facebook or something.” There was another long pause. “Man, I wish you were here Abed. It sucks that I can’t do this with friends.”

 

Abed’s head slumped suddenly, and Rachel couldn’t see his face anymore.

            “I understand,” he answered. “You’re doing what you have to do to find yourself. I’ll be here when you come back.”

 

“Abed…” Troy was worried. His friend’s voice was emotionless and monotone, and he sounded like he might be about to have one of his breakdowns. “I miss you so much, dude. But I’ve been using everything we did together to stay alive on this voyage. I think about you every day. I…” Troy almost said “I love you,” but he remembered hearing that Nigeria has passed some stupid anti-gay law recently, and he didn’t want to have _another_ daring escape in case that got misinterpreted.

            “I miss you too. Hurry back. Stay safe.”

            “I will. You take care…wait! One last thing!”

 

Abed took off his headphones, and held them out for Rachel. He was still looking down at the floor, and she didn’t know what to expect when she put them on and began speaking into the microphone. “Hello?”

            “Hey! You’re Rachel, huh? Thanks for setting this up.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “So, what, are you, like, Abed’s new friend?”

            “I’ve been hanging out with him recently. He’s pretty cool.”

            “He is. Nobody gets him, though.”

            Rachel nodded, then remembered Troy couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

            “So… what are you like, I guess?”

            She thought about that. “I’m kind of like Abed. Only female.”

 

_Abed with boobs_? Troy thought to himself. _That sounded…_ _awesome_. “Well, anyway, thanks again, so, _so_ much. Abed’s, like, the best thing to ever happen to me, you know?”

            “You’re the best thing to ever happen to him, too. Do you want to talk to him again?”

            “Nah, it’s cool. I think this might be a little too much for him.”

            “Okay. Well, I’ll have him say goodbye.”

            Troy heard a muffled static as she held the microphone over towards Abed.

            “Goodbye,” he heard Abed say flatly.

            “Did you hear that?”

            “Yeah. Best birthday present ever.”

 

Rachel nodded to Ms. Harada, and she turned off the radio. “I am going to get some snack,” she told them. “They are from trip to Thailand. You will like them, I think.”

            After the old woman shuffled off, Rachel leaned over so she could see Abed’s face. Then she moved back, and put an arm around his shoulder.

            They sat there, together, until he was calm enough to go have a snack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ms. Harada is named after and loosely based on an actual Japanese woman I taught English to who is really into ham radio. She is completely awesome, and I hope she doesn't mind that I'm using her in my story.


	9. Can't Live With Them, Can't Live Without Them

Annie woke up naturally, looked at her clock and yelped in horror when she saw it read 11:23. She jumped out of bed and raced out of her bedroom, to find Jeff dressed and lying across the full length of their couch, a pen in one hand and a stack of papers in his lap.

            “Oh my God, _Jeff_ , why didn’t you wake me up!?”

            “Because we had two feet of snow last night,” he answered without looking up. “Our street isn’t plowed, and I thought you could use a day to sleep in.”

            “Yes, but my alarm clock…” she gasped. “You went in my _bedroom_ to turn it off? Jeff, we agreed our bedrooms were off limits!”

            “Says the girl who broke into mine to clean the first week we moved in.” He turned to smirk at her. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.”

            “I haven’t done that since!” she complained. But perhaps she deserved it. After all, she hadn’t _actually_ been trying to clean his room. She’d been secretly hoping to find his box of trophies and then “accidentally” throw them out. No luck, though, and it turned out Jeff was an even bigger neat-freak than her, so she never had another opportunity.

            “I won’t ever do it again either. Consider it a gift.”

            _A gift_? That cheered Annie up, and she walked over to the couch. “And what, pray tell, have you been up to this morning as I slept, milord?”

            “Grading final papers, milady.”

            “Ooh! Have you finished mine?”

            “I have.”

            “What grade did you give me?”

            “You’ll find out with everyone else.”

            “You’re not going to try to give us all A’s just for finishing it like you did with midterms, are you?”

            “Absolutely, I mean, being forced to spend an entire night grading projects while you watched me like a hawk was _so_ much fun, I just wanted to do it all over again.”

            She rolled her eyes. “Can’t you at least tell me what you thought of it?”

            “It was interesting. I’d basically skipped the sections on civil unions when I read those books you gave me, so it was pretty new to me.”

            “Jeff!”

            “Oh come on, it’s obviously unconstitutional, why bother learning about something that’s only going to last a year or two?”

            “But you still thought my paper was interesting?” Annie bit her lip. It was strange having a friend also be the person responsible for her grade, and she was glad the class was almost over.

            “It was.”

            “Well, hurry up with them. Even if we’re snowed-in, I want today to be special!”

            She turned and went back to her room to change, oblivious to the confused look Jeff gave her as she went.

 

Jeff took a break for lunch, or rather brunch, since Annie made them pancakes and turkey bacon. She seemed in a very good mood, which worried him, because he didn’t know why. Was she just that happy to see him actually grading papers without her supervision? Honestly, the only reason he hadn’t tried to wheedle his way out of it this time was because the snow was preventing him from going out. Grading papers just barely edged out boredom.

            But he got pancakes out of it, so he wasn’t going to press his luck by telling her.

            “So…how much longer on the papers?”

            “Maybe a few hours.”

            “Hmm… what do you want to do after that?”

            Jeff gave her a wary look. “Um, why don’t we decide then…?”

            “Okay! I’ll clean up, you hurry and finish grading.”

            Jeff resumed his position on the couch, reading through page after page of papers on legal issues, most of which were nowhere near as well-written or intriguing as Annie’s. As he read one that was clearly copy-pasted from Wikipedia (the hyperlinks were still in it), Jeff began to appreciate what his own teachers must have gone through every time they had to read one of his half-assed assignments.

            Meanwhile Annie finished in the kitchen, then poked his feet until he bent his legs and gave her a spot to sit at the end of the couch. She had a book, some true crime story whose cover jarred with her unicorn bookmark, and began humming softly as she read.

            A sense of dread was building in Jeff’s stomach.

            He finished the last paper (it wasn’t that good, but he took pity and gave it a C-) still not knowing why Annie was so pleased. She noticed that he was done, and set down her book. “So, what do you have planned?”

            The knot of dread grew larger. He decided to stall. “Well, let me input the grades first…” The dean had finally updated their system this year, after mastering Excel. Jeff had spent an hour or so explaining it to Hickey, who’d muttered irritably about technology ruining everything.

            “Oh come on, you can do that later!” Annie encouraging irresponsibility? Not a good sign. “Tell me now!”

            The gears whirled in his head. “Well, my plan was to let you make the plans. You want it to be special, so you get to decide.”

            Annie’s big smile faded slightly as she looked confused. “Oh. I assumed you’d have thought of something.”

            “Annie, I’ve been a little busy grading papers here. Which, I might add, is all thanks to you and your persistent prodding, so give yourself a big pat on the back, and when you’re done, tell me what you want to do.”

            Unfortunately this did not make things better. Annie was starting to frown. “Jeff, I know you think you’re being nice, but you’re not supposed to plan your own—”

            Her eyes suddenly widened, her jaw dropped, and she jumped to her feet.

            “YOU FORGOT!!”

            Jeff blinked. “Forgot?”

            “Oh my God, you did, didn’t you? All this talk about gifts and special things and you _forgot_!”

            He sat up, holding his hands up defensively. “Okay, before the neighbors call the cops, would you mind giving me a hint as to _why_ I'm being yelled at?”

            “No! No I _won’t_ give you a hint, because you not knowing is the problem.” She stomped her foot. “Argh! If Abed were here, he’d be calling this the lamest desperation plot of sitcom writers! Sometimes I wish I was still living with him.”

            _That_ stung. “Hey, moving in together wasn’t _my_ idea!”

            “You’re right. It was mine. And I should have known better!” Annie took a deep breath and raised her chin slightly. “I’ve decided what I want to do. I’m going to take a bath. A _long_ bath. And if you interrupt me, I will empty all your hair products down the toilet.”

            Jeff was left slightly aghast as she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. He almost went after her, but the image of his mousse circling the drain (and clogging it – Annie forgot how viscous that stuff could be) was enough to make him decide to let her calm down on her own. He heard the bath begin to run and sighed, picking up his phone to begin putting in grades. Annie got an A, of course, as did two other students who’d taken the class seriously enough to work at it. She really needed to stress less about these things.

            As he finished, an email notification popped up. It was from Shirley. _Have Skype turned on at 6. We have a surprise planned for Annie ♥♥♥_ , the message read.

            Okay, now he was even more confused. Annie was upset with him, his friends were planning something, and nobody had bothered to explain to him what the hell was going on. He went to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer, when he happened to glance at the calendar hanging on the door of fridge. The day, December 19th, was circled in purple pen, as though it were important.

            Crap.

            The lamest desperation plot of sitcom writers.

            _He’d forgotten her birthday_.

            No, wait – that actually ticked him off. Of _course_ he forgot her birthday. He forgot _everyone’s_ birthday, including his own. Who wanted to be reminded that they were one year closer to their inevitable deaths? Maybe she’d expected him to remember now that they were roommates, but she should know him better than that by now.

            He weighed simply giving her a speech on unrealistic expectations and how birthdays were arbitrary, but that would probably leave Annie pissed at him, and pissed Annie was not fun Annie. So he had to come up with another plan, fast, that could save him from the wrath stewing in their bathtub.

 

Annie had been soaking for over an hour when the smell from the kitchen wafted under the bathroom door. It smelled Italian and decadent, and her toes were going to be permanently pruned soon, so she pulled the plug and got out. Annie sheepishly realized that, in her temper, she’d forgotten to bring her bathrobe, and spent extra time carefully wrapping herself in a towel.

            Tiptoeing out, she found Jeff in the kitchen, chopping lettuce and carrots. He turned to look at her, but when he saw her state of undress he quickly went back to staring at the vegetables. “I just put the lasagna in the oven, so it will still be a while.”

            Annie looked at him suspiciously. “You made lasagna?”

            “Yes, I did.”

            “With real cheese?”

            “Three kinds of it. It's a heart attack in a baking dish. So go get dressed and we can have a talk like civilized adults.”

            That brought back some of the huff she’d been in before her bath, but Annie decided not to let it show. She also decided that she was going back into her pajamas, because if he didn’t care than neither did she.

            Well, okay, obviously Jeff cared about _her_. There was no way he’d make lasagna for anything other than a pathetic apology attempt. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed, though. Troy and Abed had always made her birthday a huge event, and now her new roommate hadn’t even noticed the date.

            She stayed in her room, trying to decide what she wanted to say to him, until the timer on the oven beeped, and she knew food was ready. Taking deep breaths, Annie exited her room in her blue-and-white striped flannels. The table was already set, with two wine glasses, a bottle that looked potentially expensive, and a large salad bowl.

            “Ah, so you think a nice dinner will get you out of trouble, do you? Well, let me tell you, mister—”

            “Annie,” Jeff said, a smile in his voice.

            She turned and saw him standing in the kitchen, holding the lasagna with oven mitts. In the middle of the dish he’d stuck three sad little birthday candles, which were now lit.

            “You remembered?”

            “While you were in the bath.”

            “If you weren’t holding steaming hot pasta I would hug you."

            He set the lasagna down, and she did. “Look, Annie, you have to understand—”

            “No, it’s my fault. I know that you don’t really care about birthdays and that I should have told you if I wanted something. I just… it’s nice to have friends plan special things ahead of time for you, and I took my disappointment out on you.”

            “Oh,” Jeff pulled away from their hug. “Well, you basically just took what I was going to say. Still, you know, I could probably put a little more effort into being a supportive roommate. I’ve never shared an apartment before, so I’m still getting used to the rules.”

            Annie smiled slightly and pulled out a chair at the table. “I guess we were both acting a little selfishly.”

            “Well,” Jeff said, as he uncorked the wine bottle and began filling their glasses, “here’s to us being selfish, lousy roommates.”

            **bumBEEbum, _squirt_ , BEEbooBEEP**.

            Both Jeff and Annie jumped slightly as Skype started bleeping at them from Annie’s open laptop, which he’d left on the kitchen counter. Jeff glanced at the clock before hitting the “Accept call” message. “Right on time.”

            “Annie~~~!” Shirley’s beaming face was the one closest to the webcam, fishbowled in the lens. “Happy birthday!”

            “Oh my gosh, Jeff, did you call them?”

            “Actually,” Abed peered into the frame. “Jeff didn’t know anything about this. We were planning a surprise party for you.”

            “It’s just us three,” Shirley added, as Britta waved from the background. “The boys were with their father last night.”

            “And Rachel’s already off to see her family for Christmas.”

            “Wait, you were planning a surprise party for Annie and you didn’t tell me?”

            “Yes. The idea was for Annie to think that we’d forgotten her birthday, and since we knew that you’d forget anyway, there was no need to bring you in on the plan. In fact, since you live with her, you not knowing would have increased the chances of us pulling this off.”

            “Abed, you said you _hated_ when TV shows did that story.”

            “I do, but I always wanted to see how it would play out in real life. How did it go?”

            “Well, at first it sucked, but right now it’s kind of great. But what would you have done if Jeff had actually remembered my birthday?”

            “I’m a pretty good judge of character. I knew that wasn’t a possibility.”

            “You seriously forgot it was Annie’s birthday?” Britta asked, peering over Shirley’s shoulder.

            “Jeffrey! For shame!” Shirley mock-gasped.

            “Fine, fine, laugh it up, I’m a terrible roommate. Are you going sing to her or not?”

            Shirley never needed prompting to sing, and launched into “Happy Birthday,” with Abed and Britta joining in the background.

            “How did all of you manage to meet together in this weather?” Annie asked when they were done.

            “We were staying over at Shirley’s house to finish planning,” Abed explained. “We couldn’t get your cake. When the streets are plowed tomorrow, we’ll bring it over. It might be a little stale.”

            “Aw, Abed, I’m just so glad you guys thought of me. I mean, it’s not like twenty-three is a big deal or anything.”

            “We celebrated my 23rd birthday,” Abed reminded her. “Granted, that was right after we were expelled and we all needed some cheering up…”

            “Ooh! That’s a great idea! We should all share what we were doing on our 23rd birthday! I was chained to a fence at an army base protesting the Iraq War!” Britta paused. “Actually, in retrospect, that was kind of pointless. I should have stayed with the rest of the group handing out fliers.”

            “Well, I suppose I was about six months pregnant with Jordan. Me and Andre had been married for about eight months then…”

            “You got busy fast,” Jeff quipped.

            “Well,” Shirley replied primly, “Waiting until marriage makes you a little eager to get things going, if you know what I mean.”

            “Well, what about you, Jeff?” Annie asked. Everyone turned to look at him, which, thanks to Skype, meant that on the laptop they all appeared to be looking at the lasagna.

            “I was figuring out a way to cheat on my LSATs.”

            “ _That_ sounds like an interesting story,” Annie grinned.

            “Well, actually,” but the smug smile on Jeff's face suddenly faded.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Um, nothing. Just remembering some details I don’t want to share.”

            “Oh my God,” Britta jabbed her finger at the wine bottle. “You _slept_ with someone to get answers, didn’t you?”

            Jeff made his best attempt at dismay. “Britta, why would you _assume_ …?”

            “Because I know you, Jeff. We _all_ know you. And kudos for subverting the normal gender paradigm and being a man sleeping your way into a job.”

            “Oh Lord, Jeffrey, I am so deeply glad you’ve settled down in recent years.” Shirley shook her head, looking disappointed. “Your life of sin when you first came to this school…”

            “Hey, it was completely mutual! I just… got a favor out of the relationship.”

            “Ah. So you’re like Heather Graham’s character in _Bowfinger_.”

            “Abed, not helping!”

            “Guys, Jeff’s obviously not comfortable talking about this, so let’s quit, okay?” Annie gave him a smile, trying not to laugh at his embarrassment.

            Abed saved the day. “Unless we all have more uncomfortable stories to share, I vote we reconvene this party tomorrow when we can actually eat cake and give presents.”

            “That sounds great. Thank you guys so much!”

            The round of good-byes seemed to last forever until Shirley finally hit the “End call” button. Jeff shut down the laptop as Annie went back to the meal.

            “That was so nice of them.”

            “I just really wish they’d included me.”

            “Yeah, but, can you really see yourself planning a surprise party?”

            “Hey, if it’s for a friend, and I think they’d enjoy it, I’d try.” Jeff raised his glass. “But since I wasn’t in the loop… happy birthday.”

            Annie smiled and clinked their glasses. “Happy birthday.” She took a long drink. “So, what shall we do this evening? Netflix?”

            “Whatever you want.”

            “Hmm. Should I get a movie _I’d_ like and punish you for forgetting my birthday, or something we’d both like as a thank you for pulling this out of your ass at the last minute?”

            “It was a very good ass-pull, if I do say so myself. One of my all-time top ten.”

            “Well, this lasagna _is_ delicious. How about… _Avengers_? Beefcakes for me, without sappy romance?”

            “I will even let you make as many appraisals of Chris Hemsworth’s pecs as you like.”

            “They _are_ impressive.”

            “Indeed.” Jeff shuddered. “Wow, I am glad Pierce isn’t around to have heard me say that.”

            They left the dishes in the lasagna pan to soak until morning and sat on the couch, refilling their wine glasses as the movie loaded. “You _do_ know that Thor isn’t my favorite in this, right?”

            “Mark Ruffalo’s the better actor, so I admire your taste. He’s a lot less built, though.”

            “He’s _supposed_ to be! It contrasts with the Hulk.”

            “Annie, don’t talk like you know the comic books. I read every issue of these guys when I was growing up, and—”

            “Shh! Movie’s starting. Also,” Annie elbowed him, “closet nerd!”

            Jeff gave her a big grin, and the movie started. Annie let herself squee when Loki emerged, which made Jeff’s eyes roll.

            “Hey, you gave me permission to fangirl. I spend so much time being mature in everyday life, I like to be a little goofy around you guys.”

            “You’ve definitely matured…” Jeff let that trail off, frowned, then refocused on the explosions.

            Annie settled into the couch, smiling. Her stomach was full, she felt relaxed from the bath and the wine, and she was sitting next to her best friend, watching one of their favorite films. There was a warmth around her heart as she realized this was turning into her best birthday ever.

            Then, as Pepper and Tony started flirting with each other, something very bad happened. Jeff stretched out, one arm going across the back of the couch. It didn’t even touch her, but she could feel him there nonetheless. And it just so happened that this coincided with her realizing that Pepper Potts was a sweet, reliable busybody and Tony Stark was a snarky, womanizing jackass with a heart of gold, and oh my God they were basically her and Jeff.

            And suddenly the warmth around her heart migrated south, and Annie felt very, _very_ uncomfortable. This was bad. This was not easily-dismissed butterflies-in-the-stomach. This was a very powerful, leg-crossing, palms-itching need, and she hadn’t felt this way about Jeff in a long time.

            No, scratch that, _ever_. She’d been swoony about how good looking he was in the past, and she’d enjoyed their single, brief make-out session, but this was a whole different ballgame. She wanted him, and it had nothing to do with his looks and everything to do with how happy he'd made her. She clenched her fists to keep them from straying to his leg, only a few inches from hers, and she could barely hear the movie over the hammering of her heart.

            “I’m going to go make popcorn!”

            It came out a lot squeakier than Annie intended, and Jeff looked startled. “Um, sure. Do you want me to pause it?”

            “No, I’ve seen it, keep going!” She hastily stood up, dashing to the kitchen. They only had the low-salt, low-butter cardboard that Jeff liked to call popcorn, but she stuck it in the microwave anyway.

            “Annie, are you okay?”

            “I’m fine! Totally fine! Just had a sudden urge for popcorn. And I need to go to the bathroom!”

            She closed the door behind her and sat on the toilet, taking deep breaths. _Annie, stop it_ , she told herself. _This is just… a thing. Because the dinner was nice, and the movie is nice, and you need to find a real boyfriend and get properly laid, rather than the awkward sex you had once back in high school. Jeff is just you picking a fall-back guy. That’s all this is._

            She heard the microwave beep, and so she flushed the toilet and ran the sink for a bit to save face. When she came out, Jeff had paused _Avengers_ and was emptying the bag into a large bowl. “You sure you’re all right?”

            “All good! Ooh,” she lied, “That popcorn smells great!”

            The rest of the movie was much more awkward than she’d wanted it to be, though Jeff didn’t react so Annie supposed she was hiding it pretty well. She timed it carefully so that they never reached into the bowl at the same time.

            As the credits rolled and Thanos appeared (“I had no idea who that was when I saw it in theaters, Abed had to explain it me”), Jeff stood up and stretched. “Since you’re already changed, you get the bathroom first.”

            As Annie brushed her teeth and washed her face, she tried to decide what to do next. Living with Jeff was predicated on them _not_ being attracted to each other. If he found out, he might also want to move out, or to have her move out, and she loved this apartment and she liked living with him. So all she could do was remind herself, constantly, that she needed to not think about it, because he clearly wasn’t interested in her that way, and try to find someone else to have feelings for.

            Then things could go back to normal.

 

Jeff flopped down on his bed with a deep sigh and covered his face with one arm. He’d completely forgotten how old Annie was turning this year. It was a meaningless prime number. It wasn’t a significant milestone at all. And yet…

            It had happened again. That moment of awkwardness, as they finished getting ready for bed and said their good-nights before going into their separate rooms. The sudden urge to ask Annie to stay in his room that night.

            It wasn’t even a sex thing. He just felt strange having a wall between them. He wouldn’t mind watching her fall asleep, if that didn’t make him sound like a stalker or a sparkly vampire. (Oh yes, they’d watched those movies together, and other than the disturbingly dark fourth one they were comedy _gold_.)

            But twenty-three. It shouldn’t matter. It _didn’t_ matter. Except…

            Except that at twenty-three, he’d slept with a proctor to get his LSAT scores adjusted. She’s been hot, one of those sexy-in-glasses types who got even hotter when she took them off and let her hair down. He’d only run into her by chance, and had immediately seized on their attraction as a part of his master scheme to become a lawyer without the annoying work of law school. She’d been deliciously corruptible, and he’d kept her hair tie for his little collection.

            Also, she’d been in her thirties.

            Nineteen and thirty-one, _that_ would send anyone running for the hills. Annie had been immature in romantic relationships and way too smitten to think straight. Of _course_ she’d been too young for him.

            But twenty-three and thirty-five… no matter how he tried doing the math in his head, that didn’t seem like a big deal. Because he’d been there, done that, kept the souvenir. Twelve years meant less the older you got, and Annie had definitely gotten older, matured, turned a bit jaded, and learned to call him on his crap.

            His very inappropriate feelings for Annie now seemed altogether _appropriate_ and that thought of having her spend the night had definitely become a sex thing.

            And that bothered him a lot, because he didn’t want to be Duncan, pretending to be her friend, all the while hoping she’ll suddenly notice and make the first move so that he won’t have to. Only in his case, he didn’t want there to be any moves.

            He just wanted this to be _over_ so they could go back to normal.

 

After the second week out of Lagos, LeVar and Troy entered the fog.

            It was thick and rolling and went on for miles. Their GPS kept them going in a straight line, but the dense whiteness all around them was like a cloying veil. The currents were also unusually strong, and they’d been busier than usual keeping the boat on course.

            “I thought it was only supposed to get this foggy in London,” Troy complained. “Have coats been lying to me my whole life?”

            “It’s the cool ocean currents hitting the land,” LeVar explained. “At least, that’s what the sailing guidebook said. The Namib Desert is off our port bow.”

            They continued on slowly through the fog for several days, feeling damp and cold the entire time. On the morning of the fourth day, however, the sky began to clear. As the sun burned through the haze, the fog rolled back to reveal what looked like a wall of sand, higher than any beach hill he’d ever seen. Troy stood agape, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh my God.”

            LeVar, for his part, looked almost as stunned. “Let me go get my camera.”

            Troy reached for his own camera to take a photo, then remembered he was supposed to be manning the boat as the ship started quickly veering off course, headed straight for the edge of the shoreline. Righting them, he held the _Childish Tycoon_ steady, all the while staring at the scenery before him.

            Sometimes, Troy regretted this trip.

            This was not one of those times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Long Wall of Namibia, for those who are interested: http://everything-everywhere.com/2013/11/16/long-wall-namib-desert-namibia/


	10. Hidden In Plain Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a word of advice: never leave a glass of water near your laptop, especially when it's turned on. One slight jolt will leave all your files trapped on your hard drive, including several half-completed fanfiction chapters. My only consolation in this was that my laptop was on its last legs anyway (it was over 4 years old and had traveled across the Pacific a few times), so I'm glad to have a nice new computer, with all my files successfully retrieved. Anticipate updates going back to their former pace.
> 
> Meanwhile, oh how I loved episode 5.09! Their version of Rachel and her relationship with Abed may be very different from mine, but I love what they're doing so far and I hope they continue it.

From: Annie Edison

To: Save Greendale Committee (group)

Subject: End of the Year Party?

Hi everyone! I was thinking that maybe we could have a get-together at the end of the year before the next semester starts! Not Christmas-related, since we don’t all observe that, but maybe around New Year’s? I think we need to celebrate everything we’ve accomplished this semester, not to mention Chang finally recovering from his badger bites.

 

From: Britta Perry

To: Ian Duncan

Subject: Fwd: End of the Year Party?

This sounds like a good opportunity. Can you doublecheck?

 

From: Ian Duncan

To: Save Greendale Committee (group)

Subject: Re: End of the Year Party?

I’ve got a fairly large house, how’s about we all get together at my place on New Year’s Eve?

 

That was how it began. Shirley had tried to plead out that she had to watch her boys that evening, but Hickey had unexpectedly volunteered to babysit them. “You go out and have your fun, Shirley. I’m too old to stay up to midnight anymore.”

            Britta was actually relieved Hickey wouldn’t be coming to the party she and Duncan had planned, since she didn’t know his politics. They already had one wild card with Chang, and they didn’t need another.

            Annie decided she shouldn’t go with Jeff, for the sake of keeping their secret, so the carpool arrangements split the group male and female. Britta rode in the car with Shirley, Annie, and Rachel. The two younger women were in the backseat, and she was fidgeting in shotgun next to her older friend. Shirley was dressed up and humming to herself, happier than Britta has seen her in a long time.

            “So…” she ventured. “How long have you and Hickey been friends?”

            “About as long as you and Professor Duncan,” Shirley replied sweetly, and Britta dropped it.

            When they arrived at Duncan’s house, he met them at the door to a string of hellos and questions about where to leave the food. Britta came in last, and caught Duncan’s eye as she entered. He gave her a silent nod of mutual nerves.

            They were, after all, the only two who knew what tonight’s gathering was really about.

            Jeff was already there with Abed and Chang, and they were cracking open booze and making jokes about the Rockin’ New Year’s Eve and the uncanny resemblance between Jeff and Ryan Seacrest.

            Annie and Rachel sat down on the couch next to Abed and Rachel started digging into the chips on the coffee table. Annie, for some reason, had looked slightly uncomfortable ever since she entered the house. Shirley didn’t sit down, but instead went to the chair where Jeff was sitting, to the left of the couch.

            “Jeff, I don’t mean to be any trouble, but if we could have a word…?” Britta heard her whisper.

            He gave her a puzzled expression. “Sure, just a sec.”

            The two walked off alone into Duncan’s kitchen.

            Chang was in the chair opposite Jeff’s and he rubbed his hands together. “Are we all psyched for the New Year? I know I am!”

            “Why?” Rachel asked, her mouth full of chips.

            “Why? Come on, duh! Marijuana turns legal tomorrow! I am staying up all night and joining the lines, baby! Gonna get me some Changja, if you know it what I mean?” The instructor was grinning from ear to ear, and nudged Rachel with his elbow. She didn't look that impressed.

            “Are you going to try smoking again?” Abed asked Britta. “You’ve been clean for a while.”

            “Actually,” Britta admitted, “I hadn’t even thought about it in a long time.”

            “That’s great!” Annie said excitedly. “It's sign you’re getting over your addiction, I am so proud of you! But,” she added, “you might want to give it a few more months just to be sure.”

            Britta nodded absently. Her mind was completely elsewhere.

            Just then, Annie’s phone buzzed. She blushed and apologized. “Sorry, I thought I turned this off…” as she pulled it out, she gasped. “Oh my God, guys, Troy just posted a ton of photos to Twitter!!”

            Instantly everyone from the old study group flocked around her, peering over her shoulder to see the screen.

            “Where is he?” Abed asked, doing his best to sound casual.

            “Um, his last tweet says he _just_ made it to South Africa, but they’re going to need a few weeks for repairs and resupplying. Wow, they’ve gone a long way so far!”

            Shirley and Jeff had reentered the room, and Jeff leaned in over Annie’s shoulder to get a better look at her phone. Annie flinched slightly, and handed him her phone before scooting over closer to Rachel.

            “I don’t have Troy’s twitter account,” Rachel said, pulling out her own phone. “You mind giving it to me?”

            “Sure, it’s TroyTBone09. You know, I don’t have yours either.”

            “I barely use it. I pretty much stick to tumblr these days.”

            “Ooh! I just started that! What’s yours about?”

            “I rate the merits of different fandom ships on a multipoint grading scale that I developed to take into account potential for drama, comedy, character growth, and longterm stability.”

            “Oh. That sounds… interesting. Is it popular?”

            “I’ve got about 5,000 followers. Is that a lot?”

            Annie thought of her measly 13 and shrugged. “It’s… a decent amount.”

            Their conversation was interrupted by a loud exclamation from Shirley.

            “My Lord, where is that?” She was looking at Annie’s phone with Jeff, while Abed and Chang had their own phones out.

            “I don’t know, but it’s like something out of _Dune_ ,” Abed said.

            “A good version of _Dune_ ,” Rachel added, as Troy’s page loaded for her. “One that was never made.”

            Britta was watching the whole exchange, feeling a little guilty. She hadn’t really missed Troy that much since he’d been gone. It had only been a year since their break up, and only a few months since he left. Did that make her a bad person?

            She was stewing in her thoughts when Duncan tentatively tapped her on the shoulder. “Now might be a good time…?”

            Britta nodded. “Where?”

            “Upstairs, second door on the right.”

            She slipped away from her friends, who were talking excitedly about the photos of stunning scenery, crowded cities, and elaborate costumes. Britta walked up the steps to Duncan’s second floor, and knocked on the door to his bedroom before opening it.

            There he was. The weeks they’d been apart had filled him out from the gaunt figure he’d been when she last saw him. She hadn’t noticed the heaviness in his eyes then, but she did now. Rick must have seen and been through so much in their time apart. From tonight on, though, they’d have all the time in the world to catch up.

            Their initial hesitation, as they both took in the sight of each other, ended as they closed the distance between them and locked into a tight embrace. Britta kissed Rick like she’d never kissed anyone before – well, okay, maybe a few other guys, but not recently – and it seemed to last an eternity.

            When they finally broke away, they were both slightly breathless, and both had the same two thoughts run through their heads.

            _Wouldn’t it be great if…?_

_…but no_.

            “Everyone’s downstairs,” Britta explained.

            “And Duncan’s been a good host to me, we shouldn’t…” Rick glanced at the bed.

            “Yeah, that would be weird.”

            They both sighed and then Britta took his hand tightly, lacing her fingers through his. “Are you ready for this?”

            “I think so. Are you sure you can trust them?”

            “Yes.” _And if Chang can’t be trusted, we can easily blackmail him, what with his parole_ , she thought.

            They walked down to the living room together, and Britta could feel her heart in her throat, she was so nervous. She had no idea how her friends were going to react to this revelation, and she could only hope it would be well.

            Nothing prepared her for the actual response she got as they descended the final steps and she cleared her throat loudly:

            A row of completely blank stares.

            “Who’s that?” Rachel asked.

            “I have no idea,” Shirley answered, shaking her head.

            “He looks _sort of_ familiar.” Annie leaned her head to one side, puzzled.

            “I’m no good with faces,” Abed added.

            “Oh my God, guys, how can you not remember him!” Britta protested in frustration. “This is Rick!”

            When none of them reacted, she sighed. “Subway.”

            “Oh!” everyone said in chorus.

            Well, everyone but Rachel. “I remember him from my second year. He didn’t look like that.”

            “That was my replacement,” Rick explained awkwardly. “I lost my position as Subway’s corpohumanoid after my… relationship with Britta was revealed.”

            “Ooh, now _that_ I remember.” Shirley shuddered.

            “Look, guys, this is important, so you have to promise me you will keep this a secret.” She looked at each of her friends’ faces for a moment, trying to register if they were taking this seriously. They seemed to be, mostly. She was still worried about Chang.

            “All right, Britta, enough with the suspense.” Jeff folded his arms across his chest. “Tell us what the hell is going on.”

            “Let me explain,” Rick said, holding up a hand. He sat down at the table where Duncan had set all their food. “As you know, two years ago I was chosen to be Subway’s corpohumanoid representative on Greendale Campus. Unfortunately I couldn’t hold to all aspects of my contract. You can’t place restrictions on the heart.” He beamed at Britta, she melted, and half the group rolled their eyes.

            “Anyway,” he continued, “after my affair with Britta was exposed, I was replaced, and I went back to my normal life as Rick, once I agreed to sign a non-disclosure contract and never contact anyone who knew me as Subway. I thought it would make me free of my past, but Subway only became even more intent on monitoring all my actions. I detected hacks on my phones, my computer. I saw unmarked vans following me any time I got near Greendale. Clearly they felt I was still a danger. Which made me wonder – what was Subway hiding?”

            “That’s their footlongs aren’t really a foot long?” Jeff ventured sarcastically.

            “Shut up, Jeff, this is serious business!”

            “It’s all right, Britta, I know my story is strange.” Rick went on, explaining his infiltration and Subway’s underground cavern. As all of their faces grew more and more skeptical, Rick finally pulled out his phone and showed them the picture he’d taken. The group handed it around between them.

            “Okay, this is insane, but then again, after everything I’ve seen happen at Greendale…” Jeff shrugged. “Any ideas why they’re building a giant deathbot?”

            “None so far. I suspect a coup, because there weren’t any signs of government involvement, the way you’d expect with a military contract.”

            The phone continued its way around until it finally reached Chang. When he saw the photo, he let out a little gasp. Everyone turned to look at him.

            “Chang,” Jeff asked, “do you _know_ something about this?”

            The shock quickly wiped from his face, Chang instead looked indignant. “Oh, what, you think I must know all about giant robots? Why, ’cause I’m Asian? That’s JAPANESE, you racist, learn the difference!”

            “ _Pacific Rim_ was set in China,” Abed pointed out.

            “That’s just because the Chinese government will give you money to film there. Pretty soon all our Hollywood movies are going to have to ignore their human rights’ atrocities and suppression of democracy just to scrape out an extra buck.”

            “Right, Britta, we get it, capitalism ruins everything.” Annie took the phone back and peered at it. “It’s a bit blurry, but… what does ‘CC’ stand for?”

            “Again, your guess is as good as mine.” Rick sighed. “I’ve been stuck here for almost six weeks, and it’s limited my ability to do research. That’s what we were planning with the party tonight. All of you came here, so I can get smuggled out to Britta’s apartment without Subway’s agents noticing. Once I’m there, my hope was that you, as her friends, could meet me without arousing suspicion, and we could work together from now on.”

            “Six weeks…?” Shirley did the math in her head. “Oh! So that’s why you and Professor Duncan have been so close lately.” She giggled. “Silly me! For a while there I thought you two might actually be sleeping together or something crazy like that!”

            Britta laughed, and didn’t notice the pained look that ran across Duncan’s face.

            “Are they still after you? I mean, is it really that dangerous?” Annie asked.

            “An armed convoy chased us all the way from where we first met him,” Duncan answered with a grimace. “It’s also why I have a nice shiny new car parked out front. My old one is floating down towards the Gulf of Mexico.”

            “I was wondering why you had to replace it.” Jeff looked around at everyone in the committee. “So… should we hold a vote on this? Do we help them or not?”

            “Of course we help them!” Annie took Britta's arm. “Britta’s our friend, and so we have to support her! Besides, don’t you _want_ to know what’s going on at this point?”

            “It’s a high-stakes corporate espionage story.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “We can’t pass this up!”

            Shirley frowned. “I’ve got three children relying on me… plus I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.” She shared a knowing glance with Jeff, who nodded and patted her shoulder. “So I’ll keep your secret, but I don’t think I can do much aiding and abetting.”

            “I understand completely.” Rick looked around. “What about the rest of you?”

            Abed, Rachel, and Annie all agreed, and once Annie was on board, Jeff sighed and offered his help as well. Britta looked at Chang, who had been oddly silent since his outburst at Jeff. “Chang?”

            “I’ll help.” Chang picked up the phone and peered at it again. “I might even have some leads for you already. But NOT!” he added, “because I’m Asian.”

            “Thank you, all of you.” Rick smiled wanly. “We shouldn’t leave until after midnight, though, to make it believable. And please don’t let me get in the way of you enjoying your evening.”

            “Actually, I’d like to know more about your infiltration.” Abed sat down at the table and Rachel joined him. “I’ve always wondered how spy movies match up to reality. We’ve only done a few heist scenarios, and none of them ended well.”

            Britta was overwhelmed with relief as everyone began to grill Rick for details. His face was brightening, and she realized he hadn’t had anyone to talk to other than Duncan since he’d arrived. She’d been terrified of how the night would go, but this was better than she’d ever imagined.

            _We’re actually going to do it!_ She thought to herself. _We’re going to bring down Subway!_

 

Jeff was having a confusing evening. First Shirley had approached him, asking for a divorce lawyer. “Me and Andre want this to be, what’s the word, friendly?”

            “Amicable.”

            “But I want to make sure I get to be with my boys a fair amount of time, and I’m going to need someone to check paperwork for that.”

            “I know a few guys who offer reasonable rates, especially if you stay out of the courtroom. But are you really sure you want to go through with this? You and Andre reconciled before…”

            Shirley had shaken her head sadly. “It’s over for real this time, Jeff. Lord knows I wish it wasn’t, but it is. I think it’s best for the both of us, and the boys, if we make it final.”

            And now, here Jeff was, in Duncan’s kitchen pouring himself a scotch and watching his friends discuss overthrowing a sandwich corporation. Also, apparently Britta was still with this guy, which was weird. He’d thought that Subway – Rick, whatever – had been a passing thing for her. From the love-struck look in her eyes, it seemed he’d been wrong.

            Duncan joined him in the kitchen and filled up his own glass of scotch. “Well, that’s done with.”

            “I take it he’s why you gave up on Britta?”

            “More or less. I’ll be quite glad to be rid of him. Charming fellow, very polite, but more than teensy bit paranoid, and not great for conversation.”

            “It’s kind of hard to believe you’d been hiding something like this so well.”

            “Tell me about it.” Duncan sighed. “I’m just glad this whole business is out in the open. Honestly, it turns out, genuinely _is_ the best policy, at least if you want to avoid ulcers.”

            Jeff shifted awkwardly as he watched his friend take a drink. “Okay, so, I have a bit of a confession to make.” He took a deep breath. “Annie and I have been sharing an apartment since late October.”

            It was Jeff’s first time seeing a literal spit-take. “WHAT!?”

            “Shh! I don’t want Chang hearing this, damn it!”

            “So the second bedroom …”

            “…isn’t for storage.”

            “And the whole time you were cockblocking me with Britta and claiming Annie wasn’t your girlfriend, you’ve been bloody _living_ with her?”

            “Not like that! We’re just splitting rent, okay? The only reason we’ve even kept it a secret is because we’re not sure the dean would believe us.”

            “I’m not sure _I_ believe it. You, Jeff Winger, are sharing an apartment with Annie Edison, one of the hottest students at Greendale, and you’re _not_ hitting that?”

            “We’re just friends.”

            “Christ. I don’t know how you can do it.” His gaze moved back to where Britta stood in the other room, holding Rick’s arm. “I have been friends-zoned so hard,” Duncan groaned before swigging another drink.

            “Don’t give me that. The ‘friends-zone’ is not a thing. And if it is, you put _yourself_ there, because you’re too much of a scared little girl to actually tell her how you feel.”

            “Ah, well, I suppose you’d know all about that.”

            Jeff gritted his teeth. “I’m pretty much an expert by now.”

            Duncan blinked in shock. “Wait, you’re _admitting_ it? You’re actually _admitting_ you’re in the friends-zone with Annie?”

            “Hey, unlike you, I’m happy here. Sex and romance are complicated and stupid and never end well. If you actually _like_ someone, the friends-zone is the best place to be.”

            “You don’t really believe that.”

            “Yeah, I do.” He took a long drink himself.

            “And what happens if _she_ decides she’d like you _out_ of the friends-zone.”

            Jeff choked on his scotch. “That’s not going to happen. Don’t even joke about it.”

            “Oh yes, because actually getting it on with the woman you want to get it on with would be the world’s greatest tragedy. Right up there with winning a gold medal, or curing cancer.”

            “Annie’s… different, okay? I don’t want to go through the relationship cycle with her. It wouldn’t be like it was with Britta, when we became better friends _after_ we broke up. Breaking up with Annie… it would be over between us.”

            “You know, there _is_ a fairly simple solution to that problem.”

            “What?”

            “Don’t break up with her.”

            “What, you mean, like, ever?”

            “Yes.”

            “Just stay with her?”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “For forever?”

            “Well, presumably one or both of you will die at some point, but essentially.”

            Jeff shook his head. “That doesn’t happen, Ian. Look around. Can you think of a single lifelong relationship in anyone’s family?”

            “Well, as a psychologist, I should point out that Greendale is not exactly a representative sampling. True, fifty percent of all marriages eventually end in divorce, but the other half don’t, you know. It’s not impossible.”

            Jeff felt slightly nauseous. “And this is where the conversation ends. Because she’s not interested in me, and I am really not ready to think about… _that_.”

            He stormed off before Duncan could say anything, and Jeff was regretting telling his friend. Because now he was remembering the time he’d picked up Annie’s stupid appletini at the hotel, and the bartender had mistaken her for his wwwwwgah, he couldn’t even think it. And he hadn’t bothered correcting him. It had to have been the gas leak, because Jeff wasn’t like Abed or Annie or Troy. He wouldn’t pretend to be someone else, some other guy who could potentially settle down and get mmmmmthat with someone as amazing as Annie.

            Back in the room with her, he caught her eyes and gave her a big smile. Annie smiled back at him, a little tensely. _It must be the espionage stuff worrying her_ , he thought to himself. They’d have to talk about it once they got back to their apartment.

 

“Five…four…three…two…one…Happy New Year!”

            They said it all together, two hours after they’d watched the ball drop. Britta kissed Rick as it hit New Year’s, and Rachel even leaned over to give Abed a chaste peck on the cheek. Shirley was hugging everyone, and Jeff and Duncan toasted each other.

            Now came the hard part: how to get eight people out of the house when only seven had entered.

            “We could put him in the middle of the group, and walk out together around him,” Annie proposed.

            They tested it out in the living room.

            “Oh yeah, this doesn’t look suspicious at all,” Abed said. He turned to Rachel. “Did I get the inflection right?”

            “Perfect.”

            “Okay, so that didn’t work,” Annie huffed. “Any other ideas?”

            “We could put him in the cooler!” Chang pointed to the cooler that Jeff had brought the drinks in, now filled with only half-melted ice in Duncan’s kitchen.

            “I don’t think I can fit in there…”

            “Pfft, we could squeeze you in! I mean, we might have to cut off your legs, but you don’t need those and they’ve got bionic ones now that—”

            “Okay, no more ideas from Chang,” Jeff interrupted.

            “Actually, though…” Britta sized up the math instructor.

            “I hate you all,” he muttered to them a few minutes later as they lowered the lid onto the cooler, the tiny man balled up inside. Jeff took one side and Abed and Rachel together took the other. They went out, keeping the outside lights off so that everything was dim if anyone was watching.

            As they reached their line-up of cars, they made the switch: with the backs of both Jeff and Duncan’s cars open, Chang emerged from the cooler just as Rick ducked into the trunk of Duncan’s new Honda Civic. Unless their potential spies had night-vision, they couldn’t have seen the move, and even then it was swift enough a blink could have missed it.

            With Rick safely in tow, Jeff took Chang and Abed, and Shirley took Annie and Rachel. Duncan would take Britta back to her place, along with Rick. Everyone feigned pleasantries to hide their nervous over-the-shoulder glances, then packed into their respective rides home.

            Britta’s pulse was still pounding as they pulled out of the drive and into the streets of Greendale. Plenty of people were still up and around, coming home from parties or switching venues, and somewhere someone was setting off fireworks, with the accompanying sirens as the authorities tried to stop them. She and Duncan rode along in silence for a while, as Britta stole glances back to the trunk where Rick was hidden. Every bump they hit in the road made her wince, and she wished they could get to her apartment faster.

            “He’ll be fine,” Duncan reassured her after a particularly large bump.

            “Sorry. But could you try to drive more carefully? There aren’t seat belts back there.”

            “I assure you I’m driving as carefully as I’m able. Calm down.”

            Britta turned back to face forward again. “I know, I shouldn’t complain. You’ve already done more for us than I ever expected.” She smiled at Duncan. “I’m glad you stepped up to help this way.”

            There was a long silence for a while, during which Duncan frowned, then scowled, then finally sighed. “Britta…I think you deserve to know that I helped you for the wrong reason. At the time, I wanted to impress you, because… well, put bluntly, I wanted to sleep with you.”

            Britta snorted. “Well, _duh_. I already knew that.”

            “Really?”

            “You weren’t exactly subtle about it. I mean, ‘British high five’?”

            Duncan flinched. “Didn’t buy that, then?”

            “Not in the slightest. Actually…I was sort of counting on you being attracted to me, in case you said no at first.”

            His eyes widened. “All right, no, Britta, no man is worth whoring yourself out.”

            “It wasn’t about Rick! Yes, I love him, but it would have been for the cause.”

            “Idealism is all well and good, but you have to have some concern for yourself. You’re a smart, brave woman, and you shouldn’t sell yourself short. Besides,” he cleared his throat. “If you’d offered, I would’ve said no.”

            “Really?”

            “I may not have much dignity, Britta, but I have _some_. I mean, I considered bargained for a date, but I generally prefer for a woman to actually _want_ to sleep with me, even if it’s just because I’m her last resort.”

            “Don’t sell _yourself_ short, either, Duncan. You outraced armed mercenaries and drove your car into a river. I mean, you can’t tell anyone yet, but once we’ve exposed Subway, I guarantee you that story will get you laid.”

            “As if anyone would believe it,” he scoffed.

            “Hey, I will be your wingwoman and back you up any day.”

            “You’d do that?”

            “Of course. What are friends for?”

            Duncan looked at her for a while before turning his eyes back to the road with a laugh.

            “What’s so funny?”

            “Nothing. Just remembering something someone said recently.” He smiled at her, more relaxed this time. “It may not have started from the best foundation, but I am actually glad to be your friend.” Duncan took a deep breath. “And now we have five blocks to figure out how we’re going to get Rick into your apartment without anyone noticing…”

 

In an internet café in Capetown, Troy finished uploading his last set of photographs to Twitter. It was New Year’s Day, but the festivities here were already subdued. Troy knew why, of course. He’d been bummed himself when he found out that, on their voyage down the coast, Nelson Mandela had died. They were even too late to see his funeral. It wasn’t like Troy expected to _meet_ him or anything, but maybe he’d kind of hoped that LeVar could get him a connection? Having a celebrity traveling companion had to come with more perks, right?

            Mostly it seemed to come attached to a bottomless checkbook and an agent who could get them in touch with everything they needed. They’d been talking seriously about where they planned to go once they rounded the cape.

            “I didn’t see the movie,” Troy explained, “but the trailer for _Captain Phillips_ looked scary as hell. I do _not_ want to mess with another set of pirates. Has _Star Trek_ even been translated into Somalian?”

            “I don't want to risk it either. But going straight from here to India would put us out to sea for a dangerously long time. We have to chart a few safe spots on the way. Don’t worry, though. We’ll be here for a while with repairs, we have plenty of time for us to plan _and_ for you to send some messages to your friends.”

            Troy smiled, but the truth was he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to tell them online. The kind of things that had happened, that had to be told face-to-face, right? Pictures and words weren’t enough.

            They needed to get moving soon. Any time they stayed in one place too long, Troy began missing home.


	11. I Don't Want To Ruin Our Friendship

“I’ve been running through a list of things that ‘CC’ could be,” Annie said, folding out the pages of her research across Britta’s dining room table.

            It was a week into January, a week before classes were set to begin, and the committee members who'd agreed to support the anti-Subway effort (minus Chang) had gathered at Britta’s apartment. Britta and Rick sat close together, with one of them touching the other’s knee back and forth throughout the evening. Jeff and Duncan sat on the other side of the table, as far from the happy couple as possible so that neither of them had to see the flirting, while Rachel and Abed had stationed themselves in between and across from one another. Annie had chosen to sit between Abed and Britta, putting two chairs between herself and Jeff. That had become her habit lately.

            “Unfortunately,” she continued, “there’s a lot of possibilities to investigate. We also don’t know whether they’d completed writing the label, or if it’s some internal code for the engineers. I've got the list here, but unless we find other information leading back to it, I think that ‘CC’ is a dead end for now.”

            “That still leaves us with the SuperPAC accounts,” Jeff pointed to Rachel and Abed, the more tech savvy among them, “and construction purchases,” and he pointed to himself and Britta. “Plus whatever it is that Chang said he was looking into.”

            “Yeah, did anyone actually figure out what he was talking about?” Rachel asked. “Was this another case of me being confused because I’m new?”

            “No, he wouldn’t give any details, but I think it had something to do with robotics. He was really emphasizing how this had no connection to his ethnic heritage.” Abed blinked and frowned. “Should we be worried about him?”

            “He wouldn’t sell us out… right?” Annie looked around at the rest of the group anxiously.

            Jeff shrugged. “Well, I personally believe he’s invested in actually turning his life around, as incompetently as he’s been managing to do it. Even Chang couldn’t put on a desperation act that convincingly. So for the time being, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. I’ll see him at the faculty meeting this Friday.”

            “Which brings us to our last point,” said Britta. “Do we bring Professor Hickey in on the plan? He’s your advisor, Annie, do you want to take care of this?”

            “I don’t know. I really only see him in classes and at the committee. Shouldn’t one of you guys take care of this?” She gestured at Duncan and Jeff.

            “The man’s a bit of a riddle, even among the professors,” Duncan acknowledged. “Keeps to himself, won’t carpool. Jeff knows him better than I do.”

            “We’ve talked a little, but honestly, I think Shirley should be the one to approach him. I don’t know when it happened, but him volunteering to babysit her kids? I don’t think Hickey’s ever made that kind of gesture to anyone before.”

            “So we talk to her on Monday,” Britta said with a nod. She smiled at Rick. “See what we can get done when we all work together?”

            “You’re right. I’m glad I let you bring them in.” He rubbed his nose against hers, and even Annie agreed with the general reaction that it was really time to let the two lovebirds get back to being alone.

            They stayed relatively serious on the way down to the front of Britta’s apartment, but once they were out on the street, they immediately broke into their “Hey, we just came out of a party!” routine that they’d worked on for part of the meeting.

            “We’ve pre-ordered tickets to _The Lego-Movie_ , so keep your calendars clear!” Rachel said loudly.

            “Try to come up with a good Lego costume,” Abed added. “Licensed characters do not count.”

            Duncan was driving the two of them back to their homes in his Civic. “You two have a nice evening,” he called, waggling his eyebrows slightly at Jeff as he and Annie went off in the other direction.

            Annie groaned as they approached Jeff’s car. “Did you _have_ to tell him we were living together?”

            “Outside of the old study group, he’s my best friend. Would you rather that I kept lying to him forever?”

            “No, but Duncan is…”

            “…no worse a person than I was when we first became friends, Annie.”

            “That _is_ true, compared to first-year you, Duncan is a saint.”

            “Oh, _thanks_.”

            “It’s a compliment! You’ve grown a lot in four years, Jeff.”

            They both got into the car and Jeff started the engine. With the doors closed and the two of them alone, Annie felt her discomfort returning. The Lexus was pretty roomy, but it still seemed as though he was sitting too close. Maybe it was time for her to consider finding her own car…?

            Annie’s nerves kept her quiet for a good minute as they began the drive home. Jeff was focused enough on driving (or maybe just thinking about how on earth he and Britta were actually going to do research into construction purchases) that he didn’t seem to notice the lull in conversation. She was getting increasingly uncomfortable, though, and decided to break the silence.

            “You know, Jeff, we’ve been so busy lately I completely forgot to ask what classes you’re teaching this semester.”

            “Actually, I’m going to be running two. One’s a seminar, which sounds fancy but basically means we let in fewer students and get to charge them extra.”

            She brightened a little. “Seminars are fun! What’s it called?”

            “ _New Laws in Colorado: Pros and Cons_.”

            “New laws… Jeff, are you doing a whole class on legalized pot?”

            He grinned. “It filled up in two minutes.”

            Annie sighed. “Great. What’s the other one?”

            “Mock trial.”

            “Oh! Then I guess I’ll still be seeing you at school this semester.”

            “You’re taking it? Annie, you _just_ finished being my student, I don’t know how much more I can take of you bugging me about your grades outside of class.”

            “No, I’m not _taking_ it. It’s just, in my criminology class we have to be mock witnesses at your mock trials. Professor Hickey wants us to learn how to hold up on the stand.”

            “Oh really?” Jeff smiled deviously. “Well, I look forward to teaching my students all your patterns.”

            “And I look forward to knowing you’re going to teach them my patterns so I can switch up my patterns.”

            “How do you know that you switching up your pattern isn’t one of the patterns I predicted?”

            “Well, then I’ll just fall back into my usual patterns so you can’t…predict my… pattern…or something.” Okay, so witty comebacks weren’t her thing. “Anyway, don’t have them go easy on me. I want to do this for real someday, and when someone’s life is on the line, I have to be prepared to stand firm.”

            “You need practice with that. I’m not saying you’re weak or anything, but you _do_ let people get to you too easily. You’ve always been your own worst enemy. Relax, stick to what you know for facts, and you should be fine.” He gave her a sincere smile this time as they stopped at a red light. “Try to have as much faith in yourself as the rest of us do.”

            Annie found herself smiling back, her heart warming, and then it was all ruined by those _other_ feelings. She cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she managed to say, before the light turned green.

            She hated this. Being alone with Jeff used to be the most enjoyable part of her day, when she could be herself and have fun. Now, it was a recipe for unwanted emotions and impending disaster. And Annie wasn’t sure how much more of it she could take.

 

Jeff came back from the faculty meeting fuming, and he startled Annie when he slammed the door shut behind him. “Do you have the number for our landlord?”

            Annie was standing in the kitchen, and she pulled out her cell to find it, a worried look on her face. “What happened?”

            “Our paychecks are being delayed this month. Again. Which means we may have to beg for a rent extension.”

            “Are you really running _that_ low on money?”

            Jeff went straight for the fridge and pulled out a beer. “I could cover it if it’s really a pinch, but I’d rather we spread out our costs so that our accounts aren’t ever approaching zero. All it would take is one emergency for the both of us to be on the street.” He uncapped the beer and took a long drink before continuing. “Now I know why Ian prefers not to stay sober for long. Our school is a _mess_ , Annie, and the dean’s refusing to raise tuition to cover everything.”

            “The sixty-four dollars a credit rule is part of appeal.”

            “That video was made almost ten years ago. With inflation that should be, I don’t know…”

            “$75 a credit.”

            “Holy crap, Annie, you can do inflation estimates in your head?”

            “I’ve got an app.” She waved her phone at him. “You probably have a point. I mean, being affordable is great, but costs _have_ gone up too. Should I put it on the agenda…?”

            “I don’t know if our committee has the power to do something like that. We’d have to present it to the board.”

            “Any luck on your other task for the meeting?”

            “Chang? He was being as evasive as ever. Strange, I kind of got the sense he was feeling _guilty_ about something.”

            “Oh no!” Her eyes widened. “But you were so sure he wasn't turning on us—”

            “Not like that, more like… I think he wants to somehow atone for everything he did our third year. I’ve told him we all blame it on the monkey gas, but Chang’s a complicated guy, surprisingly.”

            “Yeah, I’d always just pegged him as a weirdo on a massive ego trip.”

            “He _was_ , but he’s been through the wringer since he got fired our first year. I don’t know what to think about him anymore, honestly. But I _still_ don’t think he’ll sell us out.”

            “Good.” Annie fidgeted slightly, and then quickly ducked out of the kitchen. “Well, I already ate, so I hope they fed you. I’m going to get to bed early…”

            Jeff took a few swift steps to catch up with her. “Hey,” he said, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Annie, is something wrong? You’ve been acting really skittish lately, and this has got to be like the tenth night in a row that you’ve gone to bed early. Are you feeling okay?”

            Annie’s eyes trailed down to his hand, and she gulped. “I’m fine. Just pre-semester jitters, I think. I’m cramming a lot of classes in to graduate in spring, and then I’ve got to apply for jobs, it’s just a lot on my mind.”

            He should have realized that was it, of course. Jeff had to remind himself that, sure, he’d known Annie for more than four years, but he was barely three months into this roommate thing, so he shouldn’t feel _too_ bad for not knowing this right away. Was else could she be worried about…?

            He clamped down on the awful thought that she might have pieced together how awkward he’d been acting towards her. But damn it, Jeff was going to _force_ things back to normal if he had to, because friendship.

            “Come here,” he said, and tried to pull her into a hug. Like friends. Because that’s what they were.

            Only Annie immediately pushed away from him with a strained smile. “Thanks, but I’m too old for us to do the whole big brother/little sister routine.”

            “I thought I was your uncle?” Jeff tried to get a laugh out of her, but Annie’s face was still pretty grim. “Look, Annie, if that’s all that’s been bothering you, I get it, but I can’t help but feel things have been weird these last few weeks. Is it something I did?” _Please let it not be that, please let it not be that…_

            “No, it’s… it’s not you.” She gulped again. “But we do need to talk.”

            They took it over to the couch, Jeff sitting in his usual spot, and Annie sitting as far away from him as possible. It hadn’t been like that when they’d first moved in. That growing distance felt metaphorical somehow. Jeff had a sinking feeling in his gut even before she started talking.

            “Listen, Jeff, I’ve been giving this a lot of thought. It’s not a decision I came to lightly, but I think it’s the right one, for both our sakes.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to move out.”

 _Oh God_. _Had Duncan said something to her? Did she know?_ “Annie,” he began, nervous, “If it’s _anything_ I’ve done, anything to make you feel… uncomfortable, I want to talk about it first, to try to fix things.”

            “No! I said, it’s not you. It’s nothing you did. This…” Annie was taking really deep breaths between every sentence. “It’s something _I_ did. It’s me. It’s… it’s my fault. That’s why I have to be the one to move out.”

            “What—Annie, come on, I forgave you dosing us with amphetamines, believe me, we can work through this.”

            “Not this.”

             Jeff started to scoot towards her across the couch. “There’s nothing you could have done that would ruin our friendship enough for you to move—”

            “Jeff, stop!” Annie held up a hand between them, keeping him from getting closer. “I…I’m developing feelings for you.”

            You could have heard a pin drop in the apartment.

            “What.” It wasn’t really a question, just a… what.

            “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

            “You said you were over me.”

            “I was. I totally was.” Annie smiled sadly. “Life after Greendale had pretty much killed little naïve Annie who could get flustered over a hot guy. When you came back, after seven months, I was so glad to see you, but I didn’t have a crush on you anymore. We _were_ just friends. And then we moved in together, and things were so comfortable, but any time they get _too_ comfortable, I start…” She hugged herself tightly. “It’s embarrassing, but I’ve been… _fantasizing_ about you.”

            Jeff forced a laugh. “Oh come on, nobody’s going to blame you for that, I mean, seriously, who wouldn’t? I work _hard_ on being fantasy-material.”

            “It’s not _funny_ Jeff. And it’s not like that. I…” Annie took another breath, her brow knit in frustration. “I-I-I think I’m in serious danger of falling in love with you, and… we can’t do that.”

            “Why not?” It slipped out before he could stop himself, and Jeff cursed himself inwardly.

            Fortunately Annie just laughed it off. “Oh come on, Jeff? Us? Dating? Can you really see us holding hands, walking down the hallway together, or going to the big dance?”

            “Well, of course not. We’re adults, that’s not what _adults_ do in a relationship, not when they’ve known each other as long as we have.”

            “Look, Jeff, that doesn’t matter, really, I can’t live here, feeling like this, I’ve been going nuts ever since this started.”

            “But I don’t _want_ you to move out! I don’t _care_ that you’re interested in me that way. Annie, living with you has been fantastic. I love eating breakfast together, brushing our teeth together, studying together, having dinner together, watching TV together, sleeping—” Jeff stopped himself, horror rising at the word he’d just said.

            And this time Annie picked up on his mistake, and her eyes started to widen. “Jeff, do you—”

            “I didn’t meant to say that.”

            “But you did. Did you mean it?”

            Annie right then looked more serious than he’d ever seen her, and he suddenly realized he’d dug himself into a hole he wasn’t going to be able to talk his way out of. She wanted the truth, in that lame, restricted way she defined it. And he was going to have to gag down and tell it.

            “I… have considered that…sleeping together is about the only thing we _don’t_ do together. And that… it might be nice if we were.”

            “‘Nice’?”

            He sighed, irritably. “Fine, all right, I want you too, okay? You’re not the only one who’s been a bit uncomfortable this last month or so.”

            Annie was still staring at him, and she shook her head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you _say_ anything?”

            “Annie, look at my track record. Every woman I’ve slept with has either been a one-night stand or a complete and colossal failure. My friendship with you – with everyone – is the longest lasting relationship I’ve ever had. I didn’t want to risk that – our friendship, how tightknit we are as a group – by turning things physical. So I thought I’d just…wait until I got over it again.”

            She turned away from him silently, and stared down at her hands. He waited, holding down the wave of panic that was filling his mind.

            After a few minutes, Annie raised her head, and said, “Then maybe we shouldn’t sleep together. Not right away. Maybe we should… test this out instead. Start with a kiss here and there, see if that makes things too strange, and if it does, then we… then we back out, go back to being friends. Simple, right?”

            “You mean… takes things slow?”

            “Yeah. In stages.”

            He laughed a bit derisively. “I’ve never exactly _done_ slow before, Annie. I don’t know whether that will work.”

            “Well, the way I see it, we have two options. We either split up, live separately again and wait for this all to go away. Or we acknowledge the feelings, and try not to self-destruct what we have in the process. And who knows? Maybe once we start going down that path, maybe we’ll both realize it was a mistake?” Annie shrugged. “I just can’t live here, wanting you, without us doing _something_. So we either give it a try, or I move out. Which is worse for you?”

            Jeff weighed his options. His more rational side was telling him that moving out was the good choice, the one least likely to blow up in their faces. Friendship was good, it was awesome, it was even, as the bronies would have it, magic.

            But…he looked at Annie, gorgeous Annie, probably his favorite person in the world, and… if there was some chance that maybe, _maybe_ there could be something more there…

            He couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Let’s… let’s try. The going slow option. I… don’t know how it’ll go, but I’m willing to risk it to stay with you here.”

            Her serious expression softened, but she still looked nervous. “Okay. That’s settled, I guess. Um…”

            There was an awkward tension between them as neither of them knew what to say next. Jeff decided to end it.

            “Does this mean I have permission to jerk off thinking about you?”

            “Jeff!” Annie smacked him in the chest, but there was a bit of a smile playing on her lips. She turned to the TV and reached for the remote. “Well, it’s only fair, I suppose.”

            Jeff’s mouth dropped opened and refused to shut properly.

            “I wonder what’s good on TV tonight,” Annie added sweetly as she started flipping channels.         

            “Wait,” Jeff finally managed, “you mean you’ve…”

            “Uh huh,” she said, innocently, not meeting his eye.

            “About me? Not Mark-Ruffalo-turns-into-me, but _me_?”

            She turned and gave him a bit of a smirk. “I _said_ I’d been fantasizing about you. What did you _think_ I meant?”

           “I don’t know,” Jeff admitted. He paused for a while, looking at Annie, letting the step they'd just taken sink in. “But I think I know what _I’m_ going to be ‘fantasizing’ about for the near future.”

           To his great relief, Annie actually giggled at that, and he found himself smiling. It was bizarre, but for the first time in a while things actually felt normal between them. Relaxed. She knew, and she didn’t think he was gross. He knew, and he wasn’t freaking out the way he’d expected. And they had a plan, a course of action to deal with this, like adults.

          Everything was going to be fine.

 

Chang looked at the gates that stood before him. He’d never wanted to come back to this place, especially not now that the group was finally starting to accept him. But he had his suspicions, and he had to know for certain before he told them. Their friendship was fragile enough that if they'd knew what he'd been involved with he was terrified he'd be out permanently. Unless he was _sure_ , unless it was absolutely necessary, he wanted to keep this his dark secret.

            It was still winter break, so now would be the best time to break in and do his search. Chang _hoped_ he was wrong, hoped that this would prove to be a wild good chase. Because if he was right, then they were all in grave danger, and he had to warn his new friends.

            Steeling himself, he unwound his grappling hook and threw it up over the fence. It caught on the nameplate of the campus and once he’d confirmed it was holding tight he began to climb up and over…

 

            …into **C** ity **C** ollege.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This brings us to the halfway point of this story, and me to a bit of a conundrum. See, I just saw the NBC's summary for episode 12 of Community... and I may, by some bizarre miracle, have actually predicted part of the plot of the end of this season (won't say what for those of you who don't read spoilers). I'm more than a little intimidated by this, but I don't want to change the story. I've adjusted details here and there as I've gone along, but I had the main plot-points of this decided long before I ever began writing it, and I'm going to stick with it. So... yeah. *gulp* We'll see how this goes.


	12. A Simple Plan

The new semester began with a flurry of activity for everyone. Annie had three classes that Monday alone, and was starting to wish she had a time-turner. Shirley’s Sandwiches reopened after the break, and she was offering discounts in the hopes that January could turn around the loss she always suffered during breaks. Shirley really needed to get a second store going off campus. Britta, who had barely passed her classes last fall, was hoping her first sober semester in a long while could see her out with a finished degree this time around. Rachel and Abed were likewise deciding whether they were really going to finish their time at Greendale this semester or if they would have to continue on into the summer. In Abed’s case, that meant deciding if he was going to get a second degree or just continue taking courses to improve his networking skills. Duncan, Jeff, and Hickey, meanwhile had their own courses to teach, which was going to keep them more than occupied.

            But most of them – the ones who knew – were still thinking about everything that had happened over the break.

            Maybe it was this absorption that led to Jeff making the error he did at their first meeting of the year that afternoon. He and Annie had been talking about what they’d have for dinner that night. It was their usual kind of conversation, and now that things were out in the open between them, they’d comfortably returned to routine, no longer caring if the other noticed when they blushed or checked them out. Annie was insisting they’d earned a decent desert.

            “Jeff, I am sick of watching my calories. A girl cannot live on frozen yoghurt alone. I want a chocolate cake, and I am making it.”

            “Fine, but keep it away from me. This job has me drinking more, and that’s just empty calories. I don’t need the temptation.”

            They sat down together at the table where most of the others had already gathered. “You don’t have to eat it,” Annie declared, “but you’re welcome to it. Though if I don’t finish it myself, I suppose I can bring it in for the group.”

            She turned to smile at everyone else and noticed they were all giving the two of them strange looks. Neither Jeff nor Annie had any idea why until Duncan entered the room shortly after. He stopped at the door, looked around the table and coughed. “Ahem. I see we’ve had a change in seating arrangements…?”

            It took a moment, but Jeff finally realized he’d just sat down in Duncan’s seat, next to Annie. They’d been caught up enough in the conversation – and sitting next to each other more back at the apartment – that he hadn’t even noticed. He immediately jumped up, trying to look casual and failing.

            “No, sorry, we were just talking and… you can have your chair back.” Jeff switched to his regular seat next to Britta, and Duncan sat down.

            Now everyone was giving them even more suspicious looks, but no one more than Rachel. “Wait, what—”

            Abed kicked her under the table. She winced, and glared at him. Abed’s face was impassive as usual, but he shook his head quietly.

            “Abed, this isn’t me meddling anymore,” she hissed. “It’s obvious something’s happened between them.”

            “What are you two talking about?” Shirley asked, leaning forward to get closer.

            “Nothing,” Abed said quickly.

            “Jeff and Annie,” Rachel said at the same time. Abed tried to kick her under the table again, but she anticipated it and pulled her leg back. “Why can’t we bring it up? Chang’s not here yet, everyone here knows they’re living together.”

            Annie put on a bright smile. “Rachel, we don’t have to talk about—”

            “Are you two sleeping together?” she blurted out, bluntly.

            Jeff and Annie both froze like deer in headlights as everyone turned from Abed and Rachel to stare at them. The tableau facing them was a mix of astonishment (from Shirley), amusement (from Duncan and Britta), and disappointment (from Hickey). Abed was still looking at Rachel, with a touch of irritation in his usually calm demeanor.

            “Rachel, it’s none of our business," he said softly.

            “It is too our business!” Shirley declared. “Jeff, how dare you!”

            “I didn’t _do_ anything!”

            “Oh, I suppose _Annie_ seduced _you_?”

            “We’re _not_ sleeping together!” Annie protested.

            “But something clearly happened!” Rachel shot back.

            “Rachel!” Abed actually raised his voice, and his friend looked shocked. “Stop. If they don’t want to talk about it, we have to respect that. Annie laid off trying to hook us up, we owe it to them to do the same.” He turned back to the other couple. “Unless you _do_ have something you want to share with your closest friends rather than keeping it a secret for an entire year only to have it be revealed in an awkward manner that causes everyone embarrassment?”

            Jeff and Annie looked at each other across the table. Unfortunately they weren’t telepathically linked, so it didn’t help much. But they both knew that Abed, in his uniquely odd way, had made a good point.

            Jeff cleared his throat. “Um, well, basically what has happened is…Annie and I have decided to…test out a romantic element in our relationship.”

            “But we’re not sleeping together!” Annie clarified quickly. “We’re taking things slow to make sure we’re really certain about this, in case it turns out to be a bad idea and we really do just want to be friends.”

            Shirley beamed and squeezed Annie’s arm. “Ooh, that’s so sweet!”

            “Yeah,” said Britta. “That’s so sweet… or it would be, if you were both still in high school.”

            “Britta, if a girl as hot as Annie had been interested in me back in high school, I would’ve slept with her in a heartbeat. This? This is me trying to be mature and responsible.” He gritted his teeth. “Which I am very bad at, so cut me some slack here. We… don’t want to upset things in the group.”

            “Oh come on, Jeff, I think we’ve all been expecting _something_ to happen for a while now. In fact,” Britta grinned mischievously, “I think I get to say—”

            “No you don’t!” Duncan interrupted. “I’ve known Jeff longer than you, I get to say it.”

            “But I knew this was going to happen first.”

            “Only because Jeff waited around like the dick of a friend he is before telling me about it.”

            Britta sighed. “Okay, fine, we’ll say it together. Count of three?”

            Duncan nodded. “One…”

            “Two…”

            “Three...”

            “Told you so!!” they both crowed.

            Jeff flinched and closed his eyes. “Can we please _not_ continue this conversation right now? We just decided this over the weekend, we didn’t want to say anything right away because it may be nothing.”

            “Nothing?” Hickey was glaring at Jeff across the table. “You think this is nothing? You’re dating a student, Jeff, without school permission. You two couldn’t have waited a few months until she graduated?”

            “No, we couldn’t, actually, but thanks for giving _another_ reason why we’re going slow at this.”

            Hickey shook his head in dismay. “I thought you had more control than that, Winger.”

            “He does. _I’m_ the one who didn’t want to wait anymore.” Annie stared down her advisor’s surprised expression. “And it was my idea to take it slow, too. I may be a student, but I’m not a kid either. I’ve known Jeff longer than you, and I know what I’m getting myself into.”

            “Please, Buzz,” Shirley said, and everyone raised an eyebrow at her use of his first name. “Can’t you be a little more understanding? They’ve been a good influence on each other over the years, and as friends we should try to be supportive. Besides,” and she smiled a little smugly. “It’s nice to see a young couple who’s _not_ just jumping into bed at the drop of the hat…unlike _some_ people I could mention.”

            Hickey didn’t look much persuaded, and Britta hadn’t missed who that jab was aimed at, but before either of them could reply, there was a bit of a sob from another end of the table.

            “I’m sorry!” Rachel said to Jeff and Annie. Her forehead scrunched enough that her eyebrows were almost touching above her glasses. “I didn’t mean to cause a problem. I’m still new to the group, I shouldn’t have just assumed everyone would be happy that you two were together.”

            “Look, I guess it had to come out eventually,” Jeff shrugged, but he still seemed unhappy that it had so soon. “I’ve done the whole secret relationship thing, it’s exciting at first, but eventually it gets old.”

            “No, not just that! It’s what Hickey said. You need to get school permission.”

            Jeff and Annie shared another glance and both took deep breaths.

            “We hate to give you _another_ secret to keep, but until I graduate, we don’t want the dean to know about this. I mean, who knows how he’d react?”

            “You think you can keep this from him?” Hickey scoffed. “Look how bad you’ve been about keeping the two of you _living_ together a secret. All it takes is one simpering glance, and you two knuckleheads are going to be the talk of the school. Half the campus _already_ thinks you’re sleeping together, if you do anything to confirm it—”

            “We’ll deal with it when the time comes,” Jeff said.

            Hickey shook his head. “Not good enough, Winger. I’m not letting you drag Ms. Edison into any trouble.”

            Abed had been silent for this whole exchange, but he suddenly rose from his seat. He waited until everyone’s attention had shifted back to him before making his speech. “Two years ago, Annie and I made a pledge to stop meddling in the lives of our friends. We’ve both been pretty mixed about keeping that promise, but I think it was a good idea.” He smiled at Annie, and she smiled back.

            “But,” Abed continued. “Neither of us said anything about meddling with college administrators.” He turned to Rachel. “If you really feel bad about bringing this into the open before they were ready, then let’s fix it. I’ll need your help. Everything you know about romances and romantic comedies. Our friends’ future depends on it.”

            Rachel nodded seriously, and stood as well, both of them grabbing their things.

            “Wait,” said Annie, trying to piece together what he’d just said. “Are you two… are you two going to try to set up the _dean_?!?”

            “It would fix your problems. The dean falls in love with someone else, he gets over Jeff, then you two can be open about your relationship.”

            “Abed,” Jeff said worriedly, “you don’t have to do this. We’re not even sure if this is going to last. We’re basically at stage zero right now…”

            “Ah, but even if you two don’t stay together, your lease still lasts another nine months. Sooner or later, the dean will find out you’ve been living together.”

            “There _has_ to be an easier way.”

            “Not one that will solve things in the long run. Besides, the dean’s barely closeted sexuality was amusing at first, but eventually laughing at him starts to feel uncomfortably homophobic. It’s about time we got him in an honest, open relationship. It’ll give him character growth.”

            Annie started to nod. “Yeah… I mean, I’m always _saying_ he has to get over his denial…”

            “You’re _supporting_ this?” Jeff asked in dismay.

            “It doesn’t really matter if you support it or not,” said Abed. “This is what Rachel and I can do to help our friends. So we better get started right away.”

            He and Rachel walked out of the room, leaving everyone in a stunned silence.

            Hickey finally heaved a deep sigh. “Any other news from winter break you people want to share with me?”

            They all exchanged looks, before Jeff cautiously asked, “What do you think of Subway?”

            “The sandwiches or the transportation?”

            “The sandwiches.”

            “I think they taste like crap. Local places are always better.” Shirley preened at his compliment.

            “Good. We think they’re trying to take over the country or something. You want to help stop them?”

            Hickey’s face was inscrutable for a while after that before he shrugged. “Sure. I’ve got contacts in the military and on the force. I’ll lend a hand… on one condition.”

            They all waited.

            “You never, _ever_ bring up your annoying little love lives around me like this again.”

            They didn’t even try to do the rest of their normal meeting, instead filling Hickey in on all they knew about Subway’s operations. He didn’t seem the least bit incredulous about anything they were saying. “This corporations-are-people thing was always a load of crap,” he explained. “Knew it’d come to this. That, or death panels.”

            Jeff and Britta were both relieved to have someone with actual leads on purchasing military-grade materials, and the meeting drew to a close with a fresh set of research plans. As they all got up to leave, Hickey approached Annie and pulled her aside.

            “Look, young lady, I may not approve of this, but I want you to know…” he gathered himself. “I trust you to make the right choice. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. And I think with a guy like Winger, taking things slow so you’ve got a way out ain’t a bad idea.”

            Annie smiled. “He can be a handful sometimes.”

            “If he ever gives you any trouble, you come to me. I’m an ex-cop, I know people who can take care of things.”

            “I once broke his nose with a right hook. Believe me, I can deal with Jeff Winger.”

            Hickey grinned, a glint in his eye, and he patted her on the shoulder. “Thatta girl.”

 

Jeff was still sitting as all the others left, and Britta decided to stay behind a gloat for a while. She’d suffered enough embarrassment over the years at his hands that his public humiliation was something to savor. “You know, Jeff,” she began. “I think this is really a good thing for you.”

            He looked at her skeptically. “Really?”

            “Oh yeah. Annie’s the perfect choice.”

            “Even with her being twelve years younger than me? I thought for sure you’d have some feminist objection to that kind of age gap.”

            “Oh hardly, Jeff. Sure, when she was a teenager, you should’ve known better than to french her, but Annie’s making her own choices right now, and I respect that.”

            Jeff looked a little surprised. “Wow, thanks Britta. You being all right with this actually means a lot.”

            “She’s exactly what you need. I mean, with her, she doesn’t have much to compare you to. Annie'll probably think you’re an absolute sex god.”

            Britta waited for him to react, but his look of horror wasn’t what she expected. “Wait, what to do you…no, you can’t mean… is Annie a vir—”

            “No! ...Wait, you two haven’t talked about this yet?”

            “Stage _zero_ , Britta. No, we haven’t.”

            “ _Shit_. Forget I said anything. If she hasn’t told you about it, I shouldn’t.”

            Britta started towards the door, but Jeff leapt out of his chair to stop her. “No way in hell, Britta, you can’t leave me hanging like that.”

            “I can’t say anything more, Jeff, seriously. Annie confided in me as a friend, and I assume that if she hasn’t told you she doesn’t want you to know yet.”

            “But…” Jeff coughed uncomfortably. “Are you just giving me a hard time, or do you really mean it?”

            “Yes, I mean it, I can’t tell you.”

            “No, I mean about… me being bad at sex.”

            “Oh. That. Well, yeah, Jeff, you are. Really, _really_ bad.”

            “How?”

            She snorted. “You want a list?”

            “No, I want to know _how_ , so that if I really am, I can _fix_ it. Am I not getting across to you how much I don’t want to screw up things with Annie?”

            “Huh. Wow.” Britta was almost speechless. “Well, okay, admitting you have a problem is always the first step. I mean, you’ve always been so sure of your sexual prowess that you’ve never bothered to consider whether you suck at it.”

            “And I’ve only got the word of one bitter ex to support that idea.”

            “Oh, believe me, I’m sure if we did interviews there’d be a trend. Your biggest problem, Jeff, is that you clearly don’t give a crap about whoever you’re screwing. You’re there for you, and it doesn’t matter whether they’re really enjoying themselves.”

            “Oh come on, I got you off!”

            “Occasionally. Mostly you were warm-up for my alone time in the bathroom later.”

            Jeff rolled his eyes. “Okay, so I suck at sex, I’m selfish in the sack, can we move on to actually helping me?”

            “It’s not rocket science, Jeff. You just have to ask her what she _wants_.”

            He grimaced. “I can’t do _that_.”

            “Okay, Jeff, if you’re not comfortable talking about sex with Annie, then you two need to end this little experiment right now, because I think you may still have unresolved issues about her age.”

            “It’s not that. You don’t… _talk_ about sex. It’s unsexy. It’s supposed to be all, you know, wordless passion, anticipating needs…”

            Britta laughed so hard she almost cackled. “Ooh, this explains _so_ much. Yeah, Jeff, unless you secretly have psychic abilities, you’re not going to know what Annie wants unless you _ask_ her. And given your track record with me, your powers of anticipation aren’t anywhere close to precognitive.”

            “But that ruins all the mystery!”

            “Oh sure, right, flirting and talking dirty with a woman, that’s _never_ a turn-on.” She arched her eyebrows. “Of course, that’s how Rick and I got in trouble with Subway, so make extra sure that there are no recording devices around when you do it.”

            “I’ll keep it in mind.” Jeff looked altogether miserable, a lifetime of conviction eroding under the grim reality of his sucky sex technique. Britta felt a twinge of pity for her friend amidst her schadenfreude.

            “Look, Jeff, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. This is Annie we’re talking about.” When Jeff simply looked at her puzzled, Britta grinned. “She _likes_ telling you what to do.”

            His eyes glazed over as his mind was obviously following the trail of that thought, and then Jeff groaned and rubbed his temples. “Taking things slow is going to _suuuuuck_.”

            “You made your bed, now you get to not have sex in it.”

            “If you’re done mocking me for a while, do you want to tell me if you _really_ are on board with this?”

            Britta thought for a moment. “Honestly, Jeff, I don’t know what to think. A part of me is pleased because you both obviously like each other and get along pretty well. But I do worry that you’ll make for a pretty volatile couple. Maybe you have the right idea in hedging your bets and being all Shirley-approved about it.”

            “She’ll be asking us to go to church with her soon,” Jeff quipped. “I’ll bet she was holding that bit about you and Rick in for a while.”

            “Pfft, if I cared what Shirley thought about the state of my soul, I’d have had to quit the group a long time ago. Meanwhile, I’m getting awesome sex every night with a hot younger guy, so ha!”

            “Don’t ever give me any more details than that,” Jeff pleaded, and the two friends left the library together.

            Nobody had thought at all about how Chang had never showed up.

 

In Rachel’s apartment, she and Abed had a whiteboard out and were brainstorming.

            “So why is he still in denial? If he’s on websites and going to truck stops and everything you said, he _has_ to know he’s gay at this point.”

            Abed shrugged. “Don’t ever ask me to explain why people act the way they do when it comes to sex. But my guess is his family doesn’t approve. That’s what usually makes people keep secrets.”

            “Still haven’t told your dad about me?”

            “No. How serious is your family’s Catholicism? Would you consider converting to Islam? It’s pretty easy, you just say the _shahada_ publicly.”

            “Even if I converted, I don’t think I’d be the kind of Muslim your father likes.”

            “Hmm, true. My cousin Abra started dating a moderate last year, and he’s throwing a fit that they don’t use a chaperone.”

            “Back to the dean, though. I can’t say for certain, but maybe the problem isn’t the sex. Maybe he’s never been in love before? Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice his feelings for Jeff. I know it’s corny, but the whole Ladykiller In Love trope comes from somewhere. You can have a lot of sex without having any romance involved. Rather than getting him a hook up, we need to find him someone he can fall for.”

            “Presumably we’d need something requited. That could be difficult. The dean’s pretty weird and his sexual tastes seem very specific.”

            “Well, at least in movies, the person they fall in love with for the first time has to be different in some way from everyone else before. A common trope is falling for someone you’ve been best friends with for a long time.”

            “That’s probably what he imagines will happen with him and Jeff someday. I’m not sure the dean socializes much outside of us.”

            “That’s kind of sad. Even _I_ have D &D with Vicki and Neil on Thursdays. I'm finally getting the hang of not dying right away. All right, so, the friends angle won't work. Another possibility is where they initially hate the person, but it turns out part of that dislike comes from their belligerent sexual tension. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the dean like that with anyone.”

            Abed cocked his head, gears whirring in his memory. “There was one time, when the rest of the group was trapped in the flight simulator…”

            “I remember that. We were trying to beat out City College, right?”

            “Yes. And Dean Spreck came over to watch his sabotage reach its completion.”

            “So who did the dean show an interest…” Rachel trailed off. “Oh. Really?”

            “There was definitely some tension between the two of them. And then the next year, during their chess match, I could sense some sparks flying amidst the insults.”

            “I don’t know, Abed. True Foe Yay usually only works in fan fiction. It’s _possible_ that he and Spreck’s rivalry could be based on repressed attraction, but they might also just hate each other because our schools compete all the time.”

            “It’s a start, though. Let’s begin a match-up with him, and think of other possibilities while it progresses.”

            Rachel took out her dry erase marker and they began to write out their plan.

 

Chang had walked through the halls of City College unrestricted that weekend. He’d rifled through every file cabinet he could find – wearing gloves of course; Stephen Spreck was crafty enough that Chang was sure he’d kept a copy of his fingerprints – but nowhere could he find the plans for the deathbot he’d once seen Spreck chuckling over. At the time, he’d asked what the designs were for.

            “Oh, just a Plan B if you fail me, Benjamin. But _don’t_ fail me…”

            That had turned out to be an idle threat, thankfully, but Chang still didn’t feel comfortable being back here. He’d wanted nothing but revenge after what the study group had done to him, but apparently the gas leak had counteracted the monkey fumes still in his system, bringing him back to normal. Also, everybody had been super nice to him when they thought he had Changnesia, and Chang really just wanted to be loved.

            Main offices and storerooms now investigated, on Sunday Chang turned his attention to Spreck’s computer. Maybe the dean had digitalized his plans, the better to keep them protected. Or maybe he’d given up on it. Chang _really_ hoped he’d just given up on it.

            With a gulp, he turned the computer on and waited for it to boot up. City College could afford the upgrade to Windows 8.1 and it loaded fast. Unfortunately that left him facing a page demanding a password, and Chang had no idea what that could be. He started guessing, beginning with “123456,” Spreck’s birthdate (he’d done some research in advance), the City College mascot… nothing was successful.

            Finally, on an impulse, he typed in “thedeanisawesome.” It worked.

            “And people think _I’ve_ got an ego,” Chang muttered. He started going through the folders on the hard drive. Spreck had the usual things you’d expect for a dean. Budget spreadsheets, class listings, school announcements. Other folders were strange. He had a thing for pugs, apparently, and also a folder full of pictures of Dean Pelton, some of which looked like they’d been taken through Pelton’s window.

            “ _Gaaaaaay_ ,” Chang chuckled. He kept searching, and finally found an encrypted file. It looked completely unsuspicious otherwise, which meant that it probably was very suspicious indeed. Chang didn’t have the software to crack it there, so he quickly emailed himself a copy of the file.

            No sooner had he closed the browser window, intending to shut the computer down, then he heard a familiar voice coming from nearby.

            “Well, well, look who’s returned to the scenes of his crime.”

            Chang looked up in terror to discover Spreck standing in the door to his office. Chang quickly hit the sign-out button and backed away from the computer. “I swear, I didn’t see anything! I mean, I don’t know your password.”

            “Oh yes, you had some trouble with that,” the dean said smoothly. “I have a program set up so that if anyone fails my security password three times in a row, I’m sent a notification. That was nearly an hour ago, so I’m assuming you’ve had all time in the world to succeed.”

            “N-n-n-no,” Chang stammered. “I was still guessing. Is it ‘city college rules’?”

            Spreck frowned, unsure of whether to believe him. “Hmm. Well, it doesn’t matter. The fact that you’re even here is reason enough for me to keep you. I’ve had my eye on you, Chang. I’ve seen you make _friends_ with that little group of yours. You think they really respect you? They’re all laughing behind your back!”

            “No! They trust me!”

            “Really? What makes you so sure?”

            Chang almost replied, then realized the trap the dean was setting for him. He glared at him. “I don’t know what you want, Spreck, but you’re not getting it from me.”

            “Oh, not by talking, at least.” Spreck gestured, and two men in Subway uniforms emerged from the shadows behind him. “Fortunately I have friends who know how to make people talk.”

            They grabbed him by his arms and dragged him away, his girlish scream following behind them as they disappeared into the dark of the halls.


	13. The One That Got Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through a lot of rewrites as I had to decide what to include or not. A few things that weren't really essential to the main stories I had to set aside, because they were just dead weight. Also, no matter how hard I tried, this came out a lot angstier than I wanted. I promise next chapter will include more silliness.

“Let’s run through this one last time before you sign,” said Andre’s lawyer. “You are agreeing to a rotation of five days each, with the exception of Easter and Christmas which will alternate annually between the two of you. Any changes in this schedule must be given to the other party at least a week prior to the change. Both parties must agree to any changes. Should either party move out of the city, this agreement will be voided and renegotiated.” She removed her reading glasses. “Anything to add, or change, ladies and gentlemen?”

            Shirley glanced at Mr. Spencer, the lawyer Jeff had recommended to her, and when he gave her a shrug, she nodded. Andre did the same, and they both picked up their pens to sign the custody agreement. Spencer had reminded her repeatedly that she could have fought for more, given Andre’s past infidelity, but as far as Shirley was concerned, she’d forgiven that, and it wasn’t why they were divorcing now, so why bring it up? This was fair, more or less a formalized version of what she and Andre had already worked out during their separation, so it would be the least disruptive to the boys.

            They signed the documents, and as her pen left the page, Shirley could swear she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She sighed and smiled a little sadly at Andre. He turned to their lawyers. “You mind giving us a minute?”

            “Of course. I’ll begin filing this right away.”

            Before they left his office, Spencer put a hand on Shirley’s shoulder. “Tell Winger that if he ever gets tired of his do-gooder shtick that Ted still wants him back. Tie-whipping Alan earned him a lot of points around the office.”

            “I’ll let him know,” said Shirley, but secretly she hoped Jeff would do no such thing, since Good Guy Jeff was a lot better man than the jerk who’d first entered Greendale.

            When they were alone, Andre reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad this worked out so smoothly. I know you didn’t want this, but…”

            “…it had to happen.” Shirley shrugged. “I think I still love you, Andre. Maybe I always will, but our lives are just going in different directions.”

            “Yeah,” he agreed. “Hey, can we at least try to stay friends?”

            “Well, we’ll sort of have to, won’t we? Sharing the boys like this?”

            “True. Maybe it’ll even be easier now that we’re not married.” He let go of her hand and nodded towards the door the lawyers had left through. “I saw you signed ‘Shirley Bennett.’ Are you keeping my name?”

            “I haven’t decided yet. If I change it and the boys don’t, that’d be awful confusing.”

            “You can keep it if you want. If you get remarried, of course, that’s different.”

            Shirley didn’t even want to consider that possibility right now. After he’d cheated on her, she’d wanted a new man, badly, to prove she hadn’t been the problem. But now she had the store and a third son, and friends who desperately needed a more mature voice in their lives.

            “You know you’re never gonna find a woman as good as me, right?”

            Andre chuckled. “Probably not. But, uh, have you found someone already…?”

            “What do you mean?"

            “Well, the boys told me a friend of yours watched them New Year’s Eve?”

            “Buzz Hickey?” Shirley laughed out loud. “Oh Lord have mercy, no, that man’s got a son not much younger than me. He’s just a friend from college who’s given me some good advice lately. He and his son don’t get along so well, I think he enjoyed playing grandpa for the night.”

            “Oh.” Andre looked a little relieved. “They, uh, said he was pretty grouchy.”

            “He most certainly is. But he’s a good man for all that. And a good friend.”

            “So, should we get going? The boys are waiting for me at my sister’s.”

            Shirley rose, hitching her purse over her shoulder. “All right. And I’ll come get them next Tuesday? You’ve had them since yesterday…”

            “Yeah. I guess we better mark our calendars out in five-day chunks from now on.”

            They left the law office walking side by side. Neither of them knew how thing would go from here on out, but now at least they knew where they stood with each other. Maybe they were no longer husband and wife, but they were still going to be allies in raising their children together.

            There was a kind of comfort in that.

 

“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Jeff said as he grabbed his keys and coat. He was heading out for weekend errands, and as had become their habit, he gave Annie a kiss before he left.

            And as had happened every time before, this was immediately followed by their “okay, now what?” feeling that left them both shifting their feet, tight-lipped, and very unsure of themselves. They had settled on closed-mouth kissing as stage 1, and they’d been stuck there for almost two weeks, because it still wasn’t natural.

            Jeff cleared his throat self-consciously, and said a short goodbye before heading out. Annie then breathed a sigh of relief. Not because he’d left, but because he’d missed her extra nervousness amidst their usual discomfort.

            She waited awhile, long enough, she was sure, for Jeff to be well on his way. Reasonably certain she would have the apartment to herself for an hour, Annie went into his bedroom to search for his box of trophies.

            It was one thing to put up with it when they were just roommate, but now that they were in a relationship, Annie had no intention of keeping this thing in their apartment. It was gross and probably sexist and objectifying and those other words Britta liked to use a lot. Annie might not be as up to date on feminist terminology, but she knew that there was something seriously wrong with Jeff’s little box, and she was going to dispose of it.

            She quickly looked over the places she’d managed to search during her first venture into his room, before he’d caught her “cleaning,” just in case. Under the bed, in his nightstand, in his closet. No luck. Annie then turned to places she hadn’t reached, beginning with his dresser. She tried not to be distracted when she opened his underwear drawer, and after a hasty, embarrassed rummage she closed it and went on through the rest. Still no box, and wow did Jeff have a lot of clothes.

            Annie frowned and placed her hands on her hips as she scanned the room, trying to think of where a box – presumably a large one, knowing Jeff – could be hidden in his room. She decided to give his closet another try, and this time she noticed something she’d missed before. His closet was slightly larger than the doors opening into it, and as a result there was a small corner of the upper shelf that was neatly tucked away. And sure enough, in it was a very suspicious looking shoebox.

            One quick retrieval of a kitchen chair later, and Annie pulled the box down. This left her in a bit of a pinch. She couldn’t throw it out without confirming what it was, but she _really_ didn’t want to see the contents, either. After a lot of fidgeting, holding the box at arm length, she finally closed her eyes and lifted the lid ever so slightly before opening one eye just enough to see what was inside.

            A brief glimpse of lace and frills was enough to make her shut it again as if it was emitting toxic fumes. Annie tried to think the most gracious thoughts possible – Jeff had matured a lot, as near as she could tell he’d really pulled back on sleeping around in recent years – but he still _had_ this thing.

            Well, if he wasn’t going to remedy this, then it was up to her.

            Taking a resolute breath, Annie folded the box under her arm and took it out into the towards the trash chute. By the morning it would be incinerated and she’d never have to think about it again.

            Annie had just grabbed the handle on the door of the chute when she heard steps coming down the hallway and the jangle of keys. She froze in horror as Jeff turned the corner coming from the elevator. When he saw her, he smiled at first and said, “I forgot my credit card…” but his humor faded when he saw what she was holding.

            She tried to open the door and just dump the box, but panic slowed her and Jeff had reached the chute and slammed it shut with one hand before she could slide it in.

            “ _What_ are you _doing_ , Annie?”

            She gulped. The last time she’d seen Jeff look this pissed, he’d taken an ax to the study room table. Annie opened her mouth to justify herself, realized she couldn’t think of anything, and tried lying instead. “I was just cleaning and…”

            Jeff lunged for the box, and she tried to pull it out of his reach, but he grabbed one end, and they started a tug of war. “It’s _mine_ , Annie.”

            “The box is yours, but everything _inside_ isn’t!” she snapped back.

            He was stronger than her and with one hard pull wrenched it out of her hands. Not even looking at her, he strode back towards the apartment. Once Annie regained her balance, she raced after him. “Jeff!”

            “Not in the mood to talk right now,” he shouted over his shoulder as he entered the apartment and headed back to his bedroom. She managed to catch up with him there and ducked between him and the closet, holding her arms to block him as he tried to edge past her.

            “Jeff, will you listen to me?!”

            He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then gave her a deadly glare. “Do you have _any_ idea what you’ve done, Annie? Do you have any respect for my privacy _at all_?”

            “You _took_ those from women, Jeff, what about _their_ privacy?”

            “Oh right, make your theft into some noble effort on behalf of womankind.” He held the box out and shook it at her. “This doesn’t have anything to do with you!”

            “Of course it does, Jeff! We’re… together now. Why do you even _want_ to keep them?”

            “You don’t keep anything from the men you’ve been with?”

            Annie hesitated. “Not…well, I’ve got a hackysack of Vaughn’s, but he _gave_ that to me, Jeff, you _stole_ them. It’s not the same at all.”

            “I wasn’t with most of these women long enough to get to the giving stage.”

            “Then why would you want mementos of them?”

            “Okay, maybe you can’t get this, but a _lot_ of guys like having a record of the tail they’ve managed to get.”

            “ _Ew_ , Jeff! What, do you like compare with all your friends on your guys’ night out?”

            “Of course not, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never shown it to anyone.”

            “Then why keep it?”

            “It’s for _me_.”

            “Oh my God, are you really so insecure you _have_ to have reminders around of all the women you slept with?!”

            “YES!”

            And now it was Jeff’s turn to be frozen in one spot. Annie’s face was gradually transforming from angry to… something else.

            “No, you don’t get to _pity_ me, Annie, I know I’ve got issues, but…”

            “It’s not—” Annie shook her head and put her hands against her cheeks. “I thought it was just me who was insecure.”

            He rolled his eyes. “What do _you_ have to feel insecure about?”

            “I…I’m not exactly…” Annie looked away from him down at the floor. “I’ve only ever had sex once. Back in high school. He was kind of gay, and it wasn’t all the great, and Vaughn and I never got past the heavy making out stage, and I tried dating a few guys after you graduated but nothing ever got off the ground, and…” She looked back up at him. “Can you maybe see how I might not like be reminded that I’m your number-whatever? That you’re more experienced than me? How am I going to ever measure up to that? And I…I don’t want to wind up in that box someday.”

            Jeff felt his anger subsiding. He wasn’t quite ready to forgive her for this yet, but now he could at least see why she did it. So _this_ was what Britta had almost told him the other day. One guy…? He’d have thought Annie would’ve managed a few more than that, just given her bust line, if nothing else.

            He set the box down on his nightstand and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Look, Annie, this never leaves this room, you understand me?”

            She nodded.

            “I’ve got something from everyone in there except for two people. One was that woman with the kid – and _no_ , I am not going to tell you who she was – and the other is… Slater.

            “Really?”

            “Yeah. They both… meant something. And having reminders of either of them, it wasn’t a fun memory of a conquest. Remembering one made me miserable and the other made me mad. So… I threw them out. Ideally I would _also_ have gotten back the hours of my life I wasted watching _Glee_ with Slater, but the universe is not so kind.”

            Annie smiled a little at that.

            “What I’m saying is… you’re not going in the box. And… it’s okay to feel insecure. I guess. I’m even a bit nervous about us, maybe, eventually, having sex. I’ve got no idea what you’ve built me up to be in all the years you had a thing for me, but I’m probably not as impressive.”

            “My fantasies aren’t _that_ elaborate, Jeff. All I’ve got is one time plus a load of fan fiction to base them on. I’m way more worried that I can’t live up to yours.”

            “I _have_ had some interesting ones.”

            Annie hesitated for a moment, but then, as she started to blush, she asked “Any you want to share with me?”

            The somewhat flirty look on her face was starting to turn Jeff toward a forgiving mood. But now he had to decide whether or not follow Britta’s advice and try talking about this with her. But if he did, what should he say? Should he start with something simple, to test the waters with her? Or should he go full-in and tell her his favorite?

            What the hell. If she wasn’t into it, he might as well know now before they got in too deep. Jeff cleared his throat. “Well, um… do you remember the text message you sent me back in our third year? To get me to come investigate our fallen yam?”

            “You mean the one that said—”

            “‘You’re about to be screwed in the biology room?’”

            Annie’s face went from pink to red. “That was kind of a poor choice of words, wasn’t it?”

            “Okay then, just in case we’re being bugged,” Jeff didn’t wait for her to ask what that meant, and instead leaned in to whisper in her ear.

            When he finished, he pulled back and waited for her response. Annie’s eyes had gone wide and the blush had drained from her face, leaving her pale and looking somewhat stunned.

            “What do you think? Too risqué?”

            She shook her head. “No, it’s… um,” she licked her lips, “that’s actually…” Annie took a deep breath. “I…I could see us doing that.”

            “Really? Even the outfit?”

            “Well, I don’t think I could afford anything leather right now, but…” Annie’s blush returned slightly, but she managed to give him a coy smile. “I still have my Catwoman costume…”

            Jeff’s mind drifted back to the Halloween party. “That would work…”

            “And you _do_ need to be reprimanded every once in a while.” She snaked an arm behind his neck and let him lean in to almost kiss her before pulling back and placing a finger over his lips. “You can keep the box. I don’t like it, but if you still need it, I guess I’ll have to live with it. But,” she added, “you _have_ to give Britta her panties back. Make her swap them for something she’s willing to part with. No stealing from friends.”

            “Yes, milady,” and then she let him kiss her.

            After they pulled away, Annie smiled. “So, is this our first fight as a couple?”

            “We had a lot of practice from back when we were just friends.”

            She almost started laughing, but then her eyebrows popped up. “Oh!”

            “What?”

            Annie kissed him again, then pulled away. “See?”

            Jeff realized what she was getting at. “Wow, yeah. This is kind of normal now.”

            “We can still hang out here for a while before deciding what stage 2 is, but… maybe this means the whole being together thing _isn’t_ a mistake?”

            The Catwoman costume floated through his thoughts. “I sincerely hope so.”

 

Pierce’s will had been somewhat vague about whether or not the whole trip had to be spent on boat or whether detours were allowable. Troy decided that if this was breaking the rules, he’d get Jeff to fight it, because there was no way he was going to stop in Madagascar without taking a safari inland, because lemurs. _Lemurs_ , man. Not quite as good as monkeys, but those you could find everywhere. Lemurs were just in Madagascar.

            Their expedition involved a long ride into the interior of the island. Spending most of his time on the boat or in port cities, Troy hadn’t quite realized just how poor a lot of Africa was. People in Madagascar (what did you call them? Madagascarians? Madagascarese? Troy couldn’t remember) had stripped large stretches of land bare of trees for firewood and farming, meaning the forests were shrinking all the time. That made Troy really sad, and kind of guilty that he had so much money on hand, but he tried not to let anyone see how bad he felt.

            When they eventually reached the forests, their guide showed him and LeVar how to stay quiet and out of the way of the animals. They didn’t see much of anything for a while, but after an hour or so, Troy spotted something moving through the trees. “Is that a lemur?” he whispered to their guide.

            He shook his head. “No,” he replied in his thick accent. “Fossa.”

            Troy didn’t know what that was, and he looked at LeVar, who shrugged his shoulders. Peering at it through binoculars, it looked kind of like a cat if you stretched it out like silly putty.

            “Very lucky to see a fossa,” their guide told them quietly. “Very rare.”

            It took another hour or so before they found lemurs, but weirdly the cat-thing was sticking in Troy’s memory more. Especially the name. _The Fossa_. That could be a cool superhero for one of Abed’s stories. Maybe he could be like a black superhero, one without the word “black” stuck in his name.

            It was all pretty exciting, and it left Troy exhausted. He fell asleep leaning against LeVar’s shoulder on the trip back to their boat.


	14. Slap Slap Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed that I've passed the 50,000 word mark. As someone who's never managed to finish a NaNoWriMo, this is now the longest continuous story I've ever written.
> 
> This chapter is also really long - in retrospect, I should've put the first part of this chapter in the previous one, which was pretty short - but hey, no Community episode this week, so knock yourselves out. I finished this pretty late at night, so let me know if there are any typos.

It had taken several weeks to plan everything for the Big Date. The first step had been setting up a Grindr account. This task went to Abed, who had the most catfishing experience. He created a profile of an individual who in most ways resembled the dean, except with a different name and photo. Abed had even managed to find a picture of a model with some of the dean’s features – about his height and weight, plus bald with glasses. After making the account, Abed didn’t immediately go after Spreck – who instantly popped up as a nearby match – but instead chatted with several other men in the area first (including one who he was fairly sure had hit on him in a bar their second year). Finally, after several days in his fake persona, he sent a photo Spreck and waited to see if he’d take the bait.

            Meanwhile, Rachel had decided to befriend the dean. She pitched it as a committee project to update the webpage, and since she had some basic skill in website design (long before tumblr, she’d had a geocities page) she had volunteered for the job. Of course the committee had made no such project (they wanted to fix the physical facilities first), and it was just an excuse to get closer to the dean.

            “You really think it needs updating?” Pelton asked as he leaned over her shoulder while she worked from his computer.

            “You haven’t updated it in nearly five years,” Rachel explained. “The faculty list in particular is out of date. At least one of these people has died, and no one new has been added.”

            “That’s true,” he admitted. “We should make sure Jeffrey’s in there as well…”

            “Oh yes,” Rachel agreed. “But is he really staying past the end of this year?”

            The dean pouted. “I don’t know. He won’t give me a definite answer. I just want a yes or a no!”

            _That works on multiple levels_ , Rachel thought. Should Jeff telling the dean he wasn’t interested be part of their plan? Or would it be better to just let his crush die naturally? “Well, we need to update your profile too. Any changes in your family for your bio?”

            He flushed slightly and cleared his throat. “You can, uh, delete the bit about my sister. I think everyone knows she doesn’t exist anymore.”

            “Gotcha.” Rachel deleted that section. “Should I add anyone as a significant other?”

            “Rachel!” the dean looked shocked. “I don’t think that’s appropriate material for the school webpage!” He coughed uncomfortably. “Also, there, uh, wouldn’t really be anyone to add.”

            “That’s a shame,” she said, as she saved the page. “I would think you’d have met someone by now.”

            That made him look sad, and Rachel worried she might have chosen the wrong tactic.

            “Maybe you just need some help!” She turned her chair around to face him. “I’m good at finding romantic matches. Do you want me to try to set you up with someone?”

            “Oh, I don’t think I need that…” he answered, but she could hear some hesitancy in his voice.

            Rachel went back to discussing the website again, and they spent about a week working on it together, without her bringing up anything about his love life. It turned out that backing off was the right course of action, because as February began, and the dean started arranging his Valentine’s Day costume, he seemed to be making dramatic sighs every few minutes whenever she was around.

            “Say…” he finally said one afternoon. “I don’t suppose your offer to match me with someone is still open, is it? Not anything permanent, necessarily, but this is a bad time of the year to be single.”

            “Oh!” Rachel did her best to act surprised. “Of course I will, if you want me to. What sort of person did you have in mind?”

            “Oh, um, someone intelligent, maybe a little taller than me, nice hair…”

            _Or in other words, Jeff_. “So do you want a man or a woman.”

            The dean’s eyes grew wide and he started to sweat. “Well, I, uh…” he looked around the room, then quickly closed his office door and the blinds in his window. “A man,” he managed, sheepishly.

            “That’s cool. I don’t judge. I just need to narrow things down.” She frowned, pretending to think about possibilities. “Well, I’ve got a friend of a friend who matches that description, mostly. I could ask him if he’s free some evening.”

            “Really?!” She could see he was latching on to that friend-of-a-friend bit. Abed was her friend, Jeff was Abed's friend. Rachel really hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed when his blind date was a no-show.

            Later that day, at her apartment, she updated Abed on her success. “Good,” Abed said. “Because Spreck just sent a request to meet up with my fake profile. Now we need to plan the right setting and the right time, and make sure that they meet together after they're both stood-up. If there’s anything between them, it should hopefully happen naturally from that.”

 

Craig Pelton was a self-conscious man, though most wouldn’t guess it. Oh sure, he loved making a spectacle of himself, and wearing an assortment of costumes, and putting on elaborate events at this school, but it was hard to be looking at forty in your rearview mirror while being single and working at one of the most terrible schools in the state. He hadn’t been on a real date in years (“real” here defined as one where you went out in public and no one was wearing a Dalmatian suit). He could see wrinkles around his eyes as he tweezed his eyebrows in the mirror and hoped that whoever this hot date Rachel had lined up for him was, he wouldn’t notice.

            The restaurant where Rachel said he’d be waiting was a rather fancy one, and Pelton peered around the ornate lobby hoping to sight the mystery man. He checked his watch, and realized he was still fifteen minutes ahead of when his date was supposed to arrive. Was it all right to ask the maître d’ about the reservation early in a place like this? After another five minutes, he finally approached the little podium and cleared his throat. “There, uh, should be a reservation for two at 7 o’clock under the name ‘Pelton’?” He nibbled his lip anxiously as the man checked his list.

            “Ah yes, we should have a table almost ready for you. If you would take a seat, a host will attend to you shortly.”

            The dean let out the breath he’d been holding and sat down in one of the high-backed chairs lining the walls of the lobby. He waited, continuously checking his watch, and trying to see if Rachel had really delivered on her promise. It would be funny if it turned out to be someone he knew, though. Especially one of his good friends...

            His date hadn’t shown up by the time he was taken to his table, in a very discreet little corner. The dean took his menu but declined to order, hoping any moment that the second seat at the table would be filled. As it approached twenty minutes after seven, that hope was rapidly fading. He didn’t doubt Rachel had tried – far from it! She was a sweet girl and if the old study group approved of her, then that was confirmation to him that she was reliable. No, she’d probably just faced the impossible challenge of trying to sell _him_ as a potential date.

            Pelton was just about to order himself something as an apology to the waitstaff for putting up with him, when the last person he wanted to see right then walked in. It was Stephen Spreck, dressed in a trim new suit. Pelton loathed that man, in his fancy cars and his accredited school and his handsomeness in spite of being the same age as him…

            He tried to hide behind his menu, but Spreck sat down at a table nearby, and when his waiter came over, Pelton had to tell him he’d just be getting a drink. Even though he tried disguising his voice, Spreck still looked up and caught a glimpse of him before he ducked out of sight again. As his waiter left, Spreck rose from his seat and approached his table.

            “Well, well,” he sneered. “Having dinner all by ourselves, are we?”

            Pelton set down his menu and tried to look dignified. “As it so happens, I was planning on meeting someone here, but they had a last minute emergency.”

            Spreck smirked. “Stood up, were you?”

            “No!” Greendale’s dean shifted in his seat. “They’re going to reschedule.”

            The other dean was clearly not buying his story, and what’s worse, he _sat down_ in the seat across from Pelton. “It appears the person I was here to meet was _also_ detained unexpectedly. Funny thing, isn’t it?”

            “Yes, a big coincidence,” Pelton agreed. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I’d like to have my dinner in peace.”

            “Oh, I don’t think so, _Greg Feldon_.”

            “Who’s Greg Feldon?”

            “Why don’t you tell me? Same height and weight as you, same age, bald with glasses, and likes dogs more than a little too much? If you were really trying to hide your identity, you should have come up with a more creative name.”

            “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Pelton said honestly. “I certainly wasn’t here to meet you, and I doubt we frequent the same websites.” He managed to end that sentence in the same haughty way Spreck usually said everything, and his adversary scowled, recognizing the impersonation.

            “Have it your way. All I came here to do was turn you and your little request down. I haven’t the time to spend with someone from your _pathetic_ institution. We have big plans at City College in the future. We’re going to be of _global_ importance.”

            “I’m glad to hear that,” Pelton replied pertly. “We at Greendale believe that as a _community_ college, we should care about the _community_.”

            “And you’re doing such a good job of it! What’s the rate of employment for your graduates again? And _don’t_ include your air conditioning annex.”

            “You know what, Stephen?” said the dean, testily. “I don’t know what you think I came here for tonight, but it was _not_ to listen to you insult the school I have worked so hard for. I was going to have a nice evening, with a nice person, a lot taller than you!”

            Spreck blinked, stunned. “You’re _not_ Greg Feldon?”

            “Of course not! And I would _never_ try to… seduce a slimy, underhanded little toad like you!”

            “ _Me_ , underhanded? You practically stole your flight simulator, and don’t think for a _moment_ I didn’t see you cheating during our chess match!”

            “You tried to take over our school during a paintball war!”

            “And _you_ had one of your students _illegally_ infiltrate our ranks!”

            “You know what I think?” Pelton leaned forward. “I think you’re just a sore loser. You can’t admit that, yes, maybe your college is cleaner than ours, and your professors better qualified, but our students have more heart!”

            “Oh la-di-da, _heart_.” He leaned across the table, face so close to Pelton’s that he could feel his breath against his forehead. “Heart won’t pay your bills, Craig. Heart won’t earn you respect.”

            “Well, I’d rather have Greendale go bankrupt than turn into a dean like you!”

            They were both breathing heavily by now, and Pelton was clutching his fork, almost ready to plunge it into Spreck, God help him, but then the last thing he ever expected happened: Spreck kissed him across the table, hard, with a bit of tongue, and Pelton’s eyes bugged open as he frantically looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Fortunately no one was paying attention.

            He finally ripped his face away. “Stephen! What on _earth_ do you think you’re doing?!”

            “I was here for a date tonight, and I’d still like to have one.” He grinned wickedly at Pelton as he sat back in his chair. The dean felt him run his foot up his leg, and he couldn’t deny it was… sort of thrilling. In a “this is _so_ wrong” sort of way.

            “I…I’m not into that sort of thing,” he muttered.

            “Ah yes, because you’re waiting for ‘a person’ to come so you can have dinner with ‘them.’ I’ve played the pronoun game before, Craig. I can think of _much_ more fun ones I’d like to play with you.”

            “But I hate you!” Pelton protested.

            “The feeling is mutual. But I think we could have some fun in the meantime.”

            He waited for several minutes as Pelton’s face went from horrified to slightly intrigued to “no! I could never do that” to “but maybe…” then back to “no!” and finally…

            He cleared his throat. “Your place or mine?”

 

Some of the group was meeting again at Britta’s apartment, for a party on the occasion of Shirley’s divorce.

            “How is that a believable cover story?” Jeff asked. “Nobody celebrates divorce except for divorce attorneys.”

            “You can have a party to commiserate as well as to celebrate, Jeff,” Shirley replied.

            Rachel and Abed were no-shows, apparently absorbed in their side-project of matchmaking for the dean. Hickey and Duncan showed up, however, and with seven of them, they opted to bring chairs out near Britta’s couch rather than gather around the cramped dining room table.

            “All right,” Jeff began. “Let’s all address the elephant in the room first: has _anyone_ heard anything back from Chang?”

            Everyone shook their heads grimly.

            Jeff continued. “Okay, what I’ve heard from the dean is that supposedly Chang’s brother left a message saying he’d been hospitalized. Now, I don’t know what that means, or what’s going on, but it’s been almost three weeks since I last spoke to him.”

            “He’s sold us out,” Rick said miserably from where he was seated on the couch with Britta and Annie. “He has to have! Britta was telling me about how he took over the school your third year, I don’t understand _why_ you trust him.”

            “We don’t, exactly,” Annie said, looking almost as sad. “But you have to have seen how much he changed since then! Everyone in our group has done _something_ awful at some point or another, if we weren’t willing to forgive each other, we would never have stayed together.”

            “And I _still_ don’t believe he sold us out,” Jeff continued. “If he’d really gone to the dark side, wouldn’t he be around us, trying to undermine our group or something? I’m more worried something’s happened to him. If he's hell-bent on proving that he’s reformed, I’m not sure what he might do.”

            “Don’t forget he was always a little crazy, Jeff,” Shirley reminded him. “How can we predict _what_ Chang would do? Maybe he even _is_ in the hospital, if he did something foolish.”

            “We should look into it, is all I’m saying,” Jeff concluded.

            “In the meantime, what else have we uncovered?” Britta asked.

            “Well,” Hickey began, “my contact was a little surprised to hear I wanted to know about the Subway Corporation. They’re not exactly known for amassing weapons. But then he went digging, and he came back with this.” Hickey pulled out a small stack of papers and started passing them around. “It’s mostly gobbledygook to me, but according to him, Subway’s been slipping armament orders in with their usual stuff for building restaurants. I don’t know if it’s enough to build some death machine, but it’s enough for a small army.”

            “Lord help us,” Shirley murmured.

            “Do you just mean guns?” Duncan asked. “Because we know they have armed guards already.”

            “Nah, I mean the materials for cannons, missiles – you could make at least one tank out of this. Hell, I was sure you were pulling my leg with that giant robot business, like some kind of Japanese cartoon, but now…” he shook his head.

            Duncan had paled. “Oh dear.”

            “Well, I’m glad you all finally believe me,” Rick said. He didn’t sound bitter, and squeezed Britta’s hand tightly with a warm smile.

            “Is any of this evidence we can take to the police?” Annie looked a little frightened. “I don’t think we’re equipped for taking out giant robots by ourselves.”

            “You don’t think the police are in on it?” Britta asked disdainfully.

            “I know you don’t trust cops, Britta, but if they’re planning something against the government, I don’t think the police will be involved. And Professor Hickey would know who to trust, right?” She turned to her advisor expectantly.

            “Britta’s right that we can’t go to the police, but not for that reason. We’d be laughed out of the precinct if we came in claiming Subway was building evil robots. Hell, if I was still on the force, I’d’ve been the one laughing at you. This won’t be enough to convince them.”

            “Well, unfortunately I think Rachel and Abed aren't making much progress in looking at the financial angle, what with their new project.” Jeff sighed in exasperation. “I’m still waiting for them to realize this is a stupid, stupid idea.”

            “I know!” Britta agreed. “I mean, I feel for you two and everything, and we do need to keep the dean from finding out, but this should really take precedence.”

            “Don’t be so hard on them, Britta,” Rick said as he gave her a peck on the cheek. “If Subway keeps us from caring about love, then it’s already won half the battle.”

            “Oh, Rick, you can be so romantic.” Britta gave him a saccharine smile.

            “And I’m out,” Hickey growled. He stood from his chair and gestured to the papers that were still circulating. “You can keep those, I made copies. Let me know if you need anything else.” He glanced at Britta and Subway cooing over each other and rolled his eyes.

            “Well, this is good progress!” Annie said as she tapped the papers against her knee to line them up neatly. “How about I look into whether Chang checked into a hospital? I know where his brother’s synagogue is, so that’s a place to start.”

            “And I’ll try to talk Rachel and Abed back into focusing on the SuperPACs,” said Jeff.

            “Is there anything I can help you with?” Shirley asked. “I can’t take too many risks, but if you need more excuses to meet, or some snacks…?”

            “You don’t have to push yourself, Shirley. None of us have three children relying on us.”

            “Thank you, Jeff.”

            “Well,” Duncan clapped his hands together. “If we’re done with business, why don’t we have a bite of something and make this an actual party?”

            “Great idea! Britta has some fruit we can cut up, and some vegetables with vegan dip.” When everyone gave Rick a skeptical look, he shrugged. “It tastes better than it sounds.”

            Shirley and Duncan went off to get the food prepared, leaving the two couples alone together. “So…” Britta began. “How are you and Annie doing? Have you staged up?”

            “It's leveled up,” Annie corrected her. “And we’re still at stage 1, I guess.”

            “Stage 1.5,” said Jeff. “Basically, stage 1 is comfortable now.”

            “Good to hear. What are you thinking of for stage 2?”

            Jeff and Annie shared an awkward glance. “Um, we’ll let you know when we’ve decided,” said Annie.

            Duncan returned, bearing a six-pack. “It turns out that greenery is not the _only_ thing Britta keeps in her refrigerator.” He passed beers to everyone, noticeably not taking one himself.

            “Ian, are you trying to go sober again?” Jeff asked as he opened his can. “How long do you expect to stay on the wagon this time?”

            “I’ve decided that my problem in the past was that I always opted to go completely off it in one go. All I plan to do now is cut back. And I had a drink this afternoon, so no beer tonight.”

            “That’s great!” Annie grinned. “It’s always good to get those things under control.”

            “No kidding. My life’s been going a lot better since we had the Pot Dumping Party.” Duncan raised an eyebrow at that, and Britta said, “I’ll tell you about it later.”

            Shirley returned with an elegantly presented platter of fruits and vegetables, and she set up Hickey’s abandoned chair in the center of the circle as a makeshift table. Everyone dug in, and they all had to admit that the vegan dip was, in fact, as Rick had promised, pretty good.

            “Now that Hickey’s not here to be offended by it, how are you and Rick doing?” Annie asked.

            “Things are going good,” Britta said casually.

            “Actually,” Rick looked serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ll have to do once we expose Subway. I’m worried about something happening to you, Britta.”

            “You don’t have to protect me, Rick. I _want_ to be involved in this.”

            “I know, but I can’t help but be concerned. I want to do right by you, Britta, the honorable thing—”

            Britta gasped. “Holy cow, you can’t mean…”

            Rick nodded. “I really care about you Britta and—”

            “Of course I’ll marry you!”

            Jeff and Annie both had their jaws drop in unison, which was a problem for Jeff since he had half a carrot stick stuck in his mouth. Shirley made a noise that sounded like she was being strangled.

            Duncan, meanwhile, reached for a beer.

            Rick gulped. “Britta, I…”

            “I know, I know, we can’t have an _official_ marriage yet, because we can’t blow your cover. But a little wedding, where we could share our vows? I know this awesome Wicca priestess who does handfastings, it’s all very in-touch with nature stuff. We could hold it here, or sneak you out to the library. This is so amazing, I can’t _believe_ you proposed!”

            “Neither can I,” Duncan muttered from behind his beer can.

            “Britta,” Shirley said hesitantly, “God forbid I stand in the way of you two making all your sex marital, but are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

            “Shirley, are you _listening_ to me? I have never felt this excited about relationship in my life!” She hugged Rick and gave him a very long kiss, during which Duncan continued chugging and Annie started edging away from them on the couch.

            Rick seemed almost as stunned as the rest of them. “Wow, I… I didn’t know you wanted to get married so badly…”

            “Well, yeah, it’s a patriarchal institution and everything, but we’re both enlightened egalitarians, we can make this work. I’ve known you were the man for me ever since I found out you knew what Pre-Men-Post-Fem-Ex-Mark was.”

            Duncan rose from his seat and tossed the empty can to Jeff. “Well, why don’t we leave you two lovebirds alone to plan, eh? I’m going to call a cab because I’m in no state to drive right now.”

            As he left, Jeff, Annie, and Shirley all exchanged looks. Annie smiled a little awkwardly, Jeff still looked flabbergasted, and Shirley was shaking her head in dismay.

            “Well, I hope this goes well!” Annie said. “Maybe a long-ish engagement?”

            “We need to do this right away,” Britta insisted. “Before it’s too late.”

            Shirley gave her a sideways glance. “Britta, I know your wedding will be a little… _different_ , but it still takes time to prepare. Why don’t you and Rick take some time to… think all this over.”

            “Yeah!” Rick said, a little too eagerly. “I mean, I want to be with you, obviously, but we should do this right.”

            “You’re so sweet.” Britta kissed him again.

            “Well, I’m following Duncan here,” Shirley said as she stood up. “I’ve got to pick up the boys early tomorrow.”

            Jeff and Annie quickly agreed to that idea, and soon all four of them were headed out of Britta’s apartment. Duncan and Shirley left first, leaving Jeff and Annie to congratulate them for a few extra minutes as Britta stood arms-linked with her new fiancé. Well, Annie congratulated them, and she elbowed Jeff until he muttered “Yeah, what she said,” in a noncommittal tone.

            They left, but about halfway down the hallway, Jeff heard Britta call for him. He let Annie go ahead to catch the elevator, and turned back to see her emerge from her apartment. She took his hand and placed what looked like bunched-up pantyhose in it. “They’ve got runs, I don’t need them.”

            He gave her a long look, then smiled, for the first time that evening. “You know, some days I really wish things had worked out between us.”

            “I don’t.” He gave her an hurt look, and she shrugged. “Jeff, we enjoy making each other miserable too much to have ever been happy together. As it is… I’ll always be your friend.”

            She reached out and gave him a hug as he pocketed the pantyhose.

            “You know,” Britta said, “if you ever want to talk to someone about the issues that little box of yours represents…”

            “…then I will scrounge up the money and go back to seeing a _real_ therapist. And I, uh…I think I might really do that. Annie may have brought up a few good points in her rant at me.”

            “By the time you can afford a therapist, I’ll be a real one,” she said proudly. “And married.”

            “Yeah…” Jeff made no further comment, but he gave her one last hug before following after Annie.

 

“Well, _that_ was insane,” Jeff muttered as the elevator doors closed, leaving him and Annie together for the ride down.

            “I dunno, it’s…kind of romantic.”

            “She barely knows him!”

            “‘Even years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others,’” Annie replied, in a tone of voice that made him know she was quoting something. Then she frowned. “Although, the man Marianne said that about turned out to be a total jerk who played with her heart and then left her for someone with money. So…”

            “I don’t think Rick’s that bad. But _this_ is why marriages don’t work out, people race into things like idiots, they don’t _think_ about how they’re making some kind of lifelong commitment that they’ll never live up to.”

            “That’s not always the case. My parents knew each for a long time before they got married. They didn’t break up because they were hiding something from each other, or because one of them cheated, or money problems. They just… grew apart.” Annie sighed. “That’s the worst thing to watch happen when you’re growing up. To know that sometimes people just stop loving each other.”

            The elevator doors opened, but Jeff hit the close button. “Annie, let me assure you, if we ever break up, it will be because of something horrible I did, okay?”

            She grinned and stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I’m not perfect either, you know.”

            “Yeah, but I’m way better at overlooking your faults than you are at overlooking mine. Which,” he added, when she looked insulted, “is not a bad thing. I need someone who can call me out without being self-righteous about it. And you’re very good at that.”

            “I’m glad you see my usefulness.” She gave him another kiss before they finally left the elevator.

 

Chang’s head was pulled out of the water for the third time, and he started gasping for air. One of the Subway agents had him tightly by the hair, and he knew the man was ready at any minute to submerge him again. Chang had been underwater so long he felt dizzy and disoriented. He managed to focus his eyes enough to see Spreck emerge from the shadows into the circle of light emitted by the one dim bulb overhead.

            “So, Benjamin, are you ready to talk about what you were doing in my office?”

            He didn't know how, but somehow Spreck had found out that Chang had a real fear of drowning. He clearly intended to use the threat of it as a way to bring Chang in line. This was only the second time the math instructor had been subjected to this treatment, but that almost made it worse. For most of the three weeks they'd detained him, they'd simply left Chang alone, in a small, dark room, not knowing what was going to happen to him. And there was nothing more that Chang hated than feeling lonely, because that's when the voices started talking.

            Right now, a small voice in the back of his head was whispering to him, _Just tell them…_

            _I can’t!_ he thought back. _They’re my friends! And Spreck is way evil!_

            _Tell them…_ the voice continued, _and make it believable_.

            Chang closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let his head stop spinning. When he opened them again, Spreck was leaning forward, only a few feet from his face. “Fine,” Chang gasped, “you want me to talk, then I’ll talk. Just… no more of this, please!”

            “Excellent! You can begin by telling me what you were looking for on my computer.”

            “It was a fishing expedition. Someone found out about your connection to Subway, and I was just looking for anything suspicious.”

            “And did you _succeed_ in finding it?”

            “No. No, I tried for the whole hour, but I couldn’t guess your password.”

            Spreck scowled, and nodded to the guard. Chang could feel him begin to push him towards the water again, and he screamed.

            “No! I mean it! I swear, I never got into your computer!”

            His descent halted, and the guard pulled him back up.

            “Hmm, well, I suppose it doesn’t matter whether you’d gotten in or not. You wouldn’t have found anything worthwhile to you. Now, for the more important matter: _who_ was it that sent you?”

            Chang had to think hard, and quickly. He needed someone believable, but as distant from Britta as possible. That would rule out most of the study group, but no one else at the school would be realistic. Finally, he settled on a name, and hoped they’d forgive him for it.

            “Abed Nadir. The committee was thinking of arranging an interschool event to try to mend bridges. He started digging, and… then he talked to me about it.”

            “You? Why you and not his friends?”

            “They’d have just accused him of watching too many conspiracy movies. He knew I was sneaky, that I could get in and out without being discovered.” Chang coughed, realizing he’d gotten some water in his lungs. “Of course, turns out he was wrong about that.”

            “And you don’t think he’s told anyone else?”

            “I don’t know! I’ve been here for the last three weeks, I don’t know what he’s been up to.”

            Spreck looked pensive for a moment. “Now, this is _very_ important that you answer me honestly: does Cra-, I mean, Dean Pelton know about any of this?”

            “No,” Chang answered honestly for the first time.

            “Good. _Good_. Well, Benjamin, I have a proposition for you. I think I will let you go.”

            “Really?” He couldn’t believe his ears.

            “Yes. After all, you’re more useful to me out there than in here. Now that you know what we’re capable of, I don’t think you’ll be so quick to back out of your responsibilities as you were last time.”

            “No! I can’t be a spy again, I was just starting to get my life back to normal!”

            “I don’t think you really have a choice, now do you? After all, your parole officer could very easily be informed of your breaking and entering.” Spreck’s smile was so sinister it made Chang’s blood run cold.

            “I… I understand. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

            Spreck began to outline Chang’s role, and he listened intently.

            _Yes, yes_ , his inner voice said. _We can do this. After all, he doesn’t know we sent ourselves that file…_


	15. Important Person, Important Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was looking at the FAQ and wondering whether or not I should adjust my tags. Do I have too many of them? Should I make it Dean Craig Pelton/Undisclosed to not spoil any new readers? I'm planning on leaving a few things open-ended by the end; is there a tag for "maybe after the series they hook up, but it's not decided yet"? Let me know in the comments.

Jeff passed by Duncan’s office on his way to his classroom, and tapped the door to say hello. Duncan looked up from behind his desk where he’d had his head in his hands. He had bags under his eyes and the start of a 5 o-clock shadow.

            “Wow, you look awful. Are you back on the bottle again?”

            “No, just tired. I drank rather too much the other night, and I’ve decided not to buy anything more and ration it for the rest of the month. Hold me to that, please.”

            Jeff stared at Duncan for a moment before quietly entering his office and closing the door behind him. “Hey, if it’s any consolation, I’m fairly certain Britta’s engagement is going to end disastrously.”

            “I can’t wish that on her.”

            “Why not?”

            “becauseiwanthertobehappy,” he mumbled.

            “What?”

            “Because I want her to be happy, all right?”

            Jeff didn’t really know what to say to that. He tried to lighten the mood. “Well, that makes you a better friend than me.”

            “Not a very high bar to pass there.”

            “…Hey, it’s just an idea, but…would you like to switch seats? I wouldn't mind being closer to Annie.”

            “Oh yes, that won’t make things worse at all. Look, Jeff, I know you’re trying to help, but the best thing you can do for me is make sure I don’t drink myself into stupor while I’m dealing with this.”

            “Gotcha.”

            “You got very lucky with Annie, you know.”

            “Believe me, I know. Even better, though? Today I get to watch my students try to take her down.”

 

The mock trials were held in one of the large classrooms. The chairs and desks had all been rearranged to make a semblance of a courtroom, with jurors to one side and a judge’s seat and a witness stand facing the tables for the defendant and the attorneys.

            Jeff had coordinated the class with Hickey, an easy task since they shared an office. Hickey would create the case and all the details, then distribute it to each of the characters in the trial. Thus the defendant knew whether or not they’d actually committed the crime, but no one else did for certain, including Jeff. He, after all, was going to be the defense attorney. He’d promised his students he’d go easy on them, but there was no way he was passing up the opportunity to be back in his old job, even if it was just pretend. It was turning out to be a much more interesting course than the ones where he had to grade tests and papers.

            And of course he’d waited to have Annie appear in the toughest case, a murder investigation. She said not to pull punches with her, after all.

            Annie felt slightly intimidated when Hickey presented her the evidence she had to examine. It was fingerprint samples from the crime scene and from the defendant. She had to use what he’d been teaching them to come to her own conclusions. And then she’d have to defend them.

            It didn’t help that she had other things on her mind, either. She’d found out just yesterday that Chang’s brother _hadn’t_ made that call. Which meant…well, who knows what.

            She and the other witnesses were kept out of the courtroom when they weren’t testifying, and Annie was last on Jeff’s witness list. When she was finally called in, she took in the sight of Jeff’s students filling out the jury and other positions. The judge, however, was someone else entirely.

            Abed was perched in his seat, in a judge's robe, looking at her quite gravely. _Of course_ , Annie thought. _Who else would Jeff trust to be objective?_ She wondered if this meant he’d also convinced Abed to focus on things other than hooking up the dean. They really needed that SuperPAC information, especially now that Chang was officially missing.

            But no, she couldn’t let herself be distracted! This was serious. She’d put on her best pantsuit to fit the part and took her seat in the witness stand. Jeff rose from his chair and adjusted his suit jacket and tie. He sauntered over to her in his defense attorney mode, only worse than before, Annie realized, because she’d forced him to actually _learn_ law last semester.

            To his credit he didn’t wink at her or even smirk. She gave him the kind of flat impassive face that Abed had always specialized in. _Stay strong, Annie!_

            “Would you please introduce yourself to the court?”

            “My name is Annie Edison, and I was a forensic examiner on Ms. Aberdeen’s case.”

            “What, specifically, did you examine?”

            “I examined fingerprints from the crime scene and compared them with those of the defendant.”

            “And what did you conclude from this examination.”

            Annie took a deep breath. “I concluded that the fingerprints from the crime scene do _not_ match those of the defendant.”

            “And how did you come to this conclusion?”

            Wow, Jeff was being very professional. “I used both visual comparison and computer software to compare the fingerprints for similarities. Usually to be certain of a match, you need more than 5 points of similarity. In this case, however, I found only two, which is typical of fingerprints from unrelated persons.”

            “Thank you, Ms. Edison,” Jeff said with a smile. “No further questions, your honor.”

            Annie’s heart started pounding as Jeff sat down and his student Dave, who was playing the role of prosecutor, stood and approached her. Jeff must have been allowing them to carry notes, because he had a small stack of cards in his hands.

            He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Ms. Edison, how long have you been a forensics examiner?”

            Hickey had given her a fake biography, and Annie tried to remember that detail. “I’ve been working on fingerprinting for two years. I’ve worked several cases already.”

            “Okay.” Dave flipped through his cards. Annie wasn’t impressed, but she supposed it was early in the semester. “So, how reliable is the technology you used?”

            “Visual comparison is only as reliable as the experience of the examiner, but the software is much more accurate. If there was a match between the sets, it would have found them. Even without the software, however, I could tell the sets were too dissimilar to be from the same person.”

            “And you feel confident in your testimony?”

            “Yes,” Annie said, and sat up a little straighter to smile at the jury.

            Dave suddenly got a triumphant grin. “And your testimony has in no way been affected by your relationship with the defendant’s attorney?”

            Annie’s heart leapt into her throat, and she saw Jeff’s eyes bug behind Dave. Apparently, this was _not_ one of the techniques he’d taught his students.

            “Objection!” Jeff called out.

            “It goes to the credibility of the witness, your honor,” Dave said smugly.

            Abed looked at everyone thoughtfully, then declared, “I'll allow it.”

            Her former roommate was nothing if not fair. Her nerves were stretched tight right now, but somehow, Annie managed to maintain her outward composure. “I don't know what you mean.”

            Dave must not have expected that answer, because he fumbled with his note cards. “Well, I mean, he’s your uncle, right?”

            Now Jeff was starting to smirk evilly, and Annie had to fight back the desire to glare at him. Well, she was just going to be honest, because to heck with him and his “relative truth” nonsense. “No, he’s not.”

            Dave was _really_ confused now. “But… Shandra in my biology class said—”

            “Shandra said that because I told her that, because she was accusing me of sleeping with my professor. I wasn’t, but I’m used to people not believing that Jeff and I are longtime friends.”

            “Aha! So you admit that you’ve lied before to protect yourself and Mr. Winger!”

            “Yes, but only because it didn’t really matter to me what she thought of us. I wouldn’t lie about something as important as a murder.”

            “Really? Well, why wouldn’t you do something to help a ‘longtime friend’? Wouldn’t he be pleased if you told a little white lie to make his case succeed?”

            Annie was getting even angrier, and this time her ire was directed straight at Dave, who looked altogether too self-satisfied. “If you think I would distort the truth to help Jeff Winger, then you don’t know us well enough. I’m basically the substitute for where his conscience should be. If he does something wrong, I’m the one there to stop him. I don’t abandon my principles just because I’m friends with someone. And the few times I _haven’t_ lived up to my own standards, he’s been anything _but_ pleased.”

            If Dave seemed stunned, it was nothing compared to the expression on Jeff’s face.

            “The fingerprints _do not match the defendant’s_ ,” Annie repeated, in her strongest voice. “That’s my testimony because that’s the truth.”

            When a long silence came after, Abed leaned down from his chair. “Do you have any further questions, counselor?”

            Dave shook his head. “Uh, nothing else, no.” He gulped, probably realizing he wasn’t going to get an A for today’s trial.

            As Dave sat down, Annie could see that Jeff’s expression hadn’t changed. She’d hoped he might look proud or something. Was it really so surprising that she’d held up on the stand that well?

            Annie left the room, and ran into Hickey standing in the hallway. “How’d it go?”

            “I had a few curveballs thrown at me, but I think I managed to do well.”

            Hickey nodded, pleased. He’d be reviewing tape of the trial later to decide her grade.

            Annie may have maintained her confidence on the stand, but now that she was off, her knees felt wobbly. Was it going to like this every time she testified? Or was this just because it was her first time?

            She retreated to the library and found an out-of-way place to collapse on a couch. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm herself down. _Try to think positively_ , she told herself. _You could have turned into a stammering idiot over that question, but you held your ground. That’s got to be an A, right?_ But she also had her worries about Chang circling in her head as well, and Annie could feel a stress headache coming on.

            About a half an hour passed, and then her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Annie pulled it out and read her text message:

 

Jeff> good job. feel like celebr8ing?

Annie>kind of tired. later?

J>where r u now?

A>library, behind philos. stacks

J>stay there, i’m coming over

 

            Annie sighed and put her phone away before sitting up. She wondered what Jeff was going to say. Did he want to discuss the class, or Chang?

            Jeff appeared through the shelves, and smiled broadly at her before sitting next to her on the couch. “Well, good news: the jury believed you. It took all of five minutes for them to declare Dye-Job innocent.” He still hadn’t learned all his students’ names.

            “Good,” she said with relief. “I didn’t expect that question. Hickey’s _not_ going to be happy when he sees that part of the trial.”

            “You handled it fine.” He placed a hand on her knee. “You handled it _awesomely_ , actually.”

            “Thanks. You seemed a bit…surprised in the courtroom. Did you really think I'd crack that easily?”

            “No, I just never imagined you’d say all of _that_ in front of everyone.”

            “Why not? It’s the truth.”

            “I guess.” He started to rub his hand a little on her knee. “You do bring out the best in me.”

            “Likewise. You challenge me to be stronger.”

            He took his hand off her knee and moved it over the back of the couch as he turned towards her. “And you were actually pretty hot up there, all badass and totally winning my case for me.”

            Annie smiled demurely. “That wasn’t my intent, but if I had that effect, I can’t say I’m disappointed.”

            Jeff leaned in to her kiss her, and she kissed him back, only this time it lasted longer than usual, and got deeper, and soon he had her in his arms and she was pulling at his shirt and they were really, _really_ kissing, like they’d only kissed once before, and he smelled _so_ good…

            It felt like it lasted ages, but eventually Annie pulled away, out of breath. She looked at Jeff and he looked as winded as her, and slightly bewildered. “Wow,” he muttered. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen.”

            “Yeah,” she agreed. Since they’d reached their comfort level at stage 1, Annie had been able to think of sex with Jeff as a hypothetical, to be dispassionately considered. That kiss, though…Annie was suddenly quite nervous. And from the looks of it, Jeff was too.

            “So I guess that’s… stage 2,” Jeff said awkwardly. “Got to get used to that.”

            “Uh huh. But we can still do more… tame kisses most of the time, right?”

            “Of course. Stage 2 doesn’t mean stage 1 disappears. We can still fall back on it. Like a safety net.”

            “We probably shouldn't be doing this at school, either.”

            “No kidding.”

            They were still staring at each other, trying not to think what this might all mean. Annie finally pulled her gaze away, and checked her watch. “The committee meeting’s in less than an hour. I’ve got to get prepared to tell them about Chang.”

            “Right. Good idea. Keep focused on the important things.” They both stood up and straightened their clothes, before walking quickly away in opposite directions without another word.

 

Rachel stopped by the dean’s office on the pretext of asking about the webpage. “Is everything still running smoothly?”

            “Just dandy!” he said cheerfully.

            Rachel looked around to make sure they were alone and then whispered conspiratorially, “How was your date the other night?”

            “Oh, well, I’m afraid your choice never showed.”

            “Aw! He’s usually much more reliable.”

            “Don’t worry, Rachel. I ran into an...old friend, and had a good time anyway.” Pelton looked eminently pleased with himself, and had a bit of a spring in his step as he collected some papers. “You gave me the courage to go for it, though, so thank you.” He took a deep breath and beamed. “Now I have to run these to the mail before the office closes. You take care.”

            As he skipped off, Rachel saw Abed approaching down the hall, still in his judge costume. He noticed the dean, and arched an eyebrow at her. She gave him two thumbs up behind the dean’s back, and Abed nodded in approval.

            Once he’d removed his robes, the two of them went to join the committee meeting.

            As they approached the study room, they could see through the glass window that everyone in the room was standing around in various anxious poses. Sitting at the head of the table was a person they hadn’t seen in over three weeks.

            Abed and Rachel entered the room, and Chang rose from his seat and turned to face them. “Hi, Abed! I’ve wanted to talk to you about our interschool effort!”

            In his hands he was holding a large notepad on which he’d written: I’M BEING BUGGED. CC = CITY COLLEGE.

            Abed’s eyes widened, and he started to squeal. Rachel slapped a hand over his mouth to keep his panic from being heard by whatever listening device Chang had on him. “Wow, Chang, long time no see,” she said, not particularly convincing, but it would have to do.

            “Yeah, I had a fall and had to spend some time healing up.” Chang shook his head, and turned a page in his notebook. I TOLD THEM ABED SENT ME TO CC & YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING.

            Abed nodded and Rachel removed her hand. “How did your research go?”

            “Nothing. I think it’s just a corporate sponsorship, nothing suspicious.”

            Another page: SUBWAY IS TOTES EVIL, YO.

            “Oh, well, then I guess we worried for nothing. Let’s go through with the interschool event as we planned.”

            CAN ANYONE DECRYPT FILES??

            Rachel pointed at herself wordlessly. Chang nodded with a smile. He mimed sending it to her.

            “Anyhoos, I have a _ton_ of stuff to catch up on with my courses. It’s been more than three weeks, so that’s like…huh, eleven classes a week, um…well, it’s been a lot of classes. See you!”

            He hurried out, and once he was out of range, everyone in the room let out a gasp of relief.

            “Oh my God, is this really happening?” Annie squeaked frantically.

            “Seems like it,” Jeff said in dismay.

            “This is huge.” Britta looked around at everyone. “Guys, I am so sorry I got you involved in this.”

            “It was our decision, Britta.” Annie pulled her chair out. “We might as well all sit down and talk about this.”

            “Are you sure the room isn’t…?” Rachel gestured around at the corners.

            “I checked the moment Chang showed up.” Hickey followed Annie’s lead and took a seat.

            Once everyone was settled in, Jeff took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a royally screwed up mess we’ve gotten ourselves into. I’m starting to think Annie’s right, we can’t handle this.”

            “It’s worse than that.” Everyone turned to stare at Abed. “Rachel and I set Dean Pelton up with Dean Spreck.”

            Britta gaped at them. “Are you two _insane_?!”

            “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Rachel said, unable to meet their eyes.

            “Did that even work?”

            “Apparently yes.”

            “Oh, Abed, we have to warn him!” Annie looked on the verge of panic.

            “I know you don't want to, Ian, but switch seats with me, seriously,” Jeff whispered to his friend. Duncan glanced at Annie and realized what Jeff meant. Once they’d changed spots, Jeff reached over and put an arm around her shoulders. Shirley, meanwhile, patted her hand gently and encouraged her to take deep breaths.

            “If we tell the dean what we know and he breaks it off, we’ll be letting Spreck know we’re on to him,” Hickey said with a shake of his head. “This is a bad business, folks. I’ve done undercover work before, but I don’t know how well all of you can fake this.”

            They all thought back to their failed infiltration of the school when Chang took over, and they let out a collective sigh.

            “Well, maybe…” Shirley hesitated. “Well, since Abed’s the one they suspect knows…”

            He nodded slowly. “Right. I’m a threat to the group.”

            “Abed, no!” Annie was distraught, and Jeff squeezed her shoulders even more tightly.

            “No, Annie, it’s like karma for interfering too much. Abed and I will keep playing along with the dean, so that Spreck doesn’t suspect anything. We might even be able to get some information about City College that way. You guys can continue what you’re doing, without us.”

            “You didn’t see all the pages of that notepad, guys. They _tortured_ him. And he’s _seen_ the plans for the robot. He worked for City College last year. This…” Britta shook her head, eyes scrunched to prevent tears. “This is worse than anything I ever imagined. What have I done?”

            “Britta.” Duncan glanced around at everyone a little tentatively, but he finally placed a hand on her shoulder. “No one is blaming you. You did what you thought was right. And without you, Subway would be free to do whatever it wanted. You’ve been quite brave.”

            Rachel’s mind was still reeling from the realization of how much she and Abed had possibly screwed over the whole group, but she still noticed the way Duncan was looking at Britta and tucked it away into the back of her mind. Hadn’t Annie said that Britta was engaged to that ex-Subway guy now? Whatever, she could sort out the ships later.

            “What’s going to matter most is whatever’s in that file he’s sending you,” Hickey reminded her. “It’s the only direct evidence we have, you gotta keep it safe.”

            Britta and Annie were both calming down as their plan began to formulate. “So,” Annie said. “Rachel and Abed use the dean to get to Spreck, Rachel decodes the file…but what else do we do in the meantime? It’s good to know what ‘CC’ means, but we’re still stuck at the fact that we don’t know how to stop them.”

            “Well, I’ll pass this all on to Rick,” said Britta, “but my guess is he’ll recommend the same thing as me: that we back away a bit. They obviously suspect us, since they’ve sent Chang back to spy on us. We have to go back to just being the Save Greendale Committee, at least until Abed and Rachel make some progress.”

            “How can we focus on helping the school when we have a crazed madman with a giant robot just a few miles away?” Annie asked.

            “You’ve still got your bazillion stars, we could use the distraction.”

            Annie was still fretting, but she managed a half-smile. “Well, and we can plan your wedding too, I guess.”

            Britta blinked. “Right! The wedding! I almost forgot about it.”

            “Lord help me, she forgets she’s getting married,” Shirley muttered with a roll of her eyes. She rose from her chair and hitched her purse over her shoulder. “I know we’re trying to keep this on the down-low, but I am telling Andre. I want him to know so that he can take the boys out of town if worse comes to worst.”

            Nobody could argue that it was a bad idea. “Just make sure he understands that he can’t tell anyone else,” Britta reminded her.

            After Shirley left, Annie actually did look at the stars littering the wall of the study room. “It’s sort of hard to imagine that only six months ago we were all just living our lives apart from each other, oblivious to all of…this.”

            “Pierce was still alive,” Abed added. “And Troy was still here.”

 

LeVar and Troy had charted out a course for them to get from Madagascar to India without heading through the world’s worst area for pirates. First they’d stop at Mauritius, then head to the Chagos Islands, and from there up the Maldives to Kerala. It meant long stretches of time over the ocean, in some places as long as they’d had between South America and West Africa.

            Troy had never been good at geography before this trip, and he decided that traveling around the world was the best way to learn it. Most of these places he’d never even heard of before his voyage began. Maybe once he had all of Pierce’s money, he could set up some kind of scholarship to send lots of kids on trips, just not ones with pirates and storms.

            They set out the first week in February, and were halfway to Mauritius by Valentine’s Day. It would have been boring, but keeping a small ship going on the open sea was actually a lot of work, even without a storm barreling down on you.

            Still, there were moments of excitement amidst the endless days at sea. Once they sighted a suspicious looking boat at night and extinguished all their lights, hiding themselves by crouching low on the deck. They waited two hours before the boat had safely passed them by, and Troy gave a sigh of relief. Both his legs had fallen asleep. He stretched them out, and noticed LeVar was doing the same.

            “I’m going to need more than one kind of therapy by the time this adventure is over,” LeVar said as they both began turning on their lights again.

            “Maybe we should make this into a movie. _Sea Trek: the Story of LeVar and Troy_. I’m going to be played by Michael Ealy, who do you want to play you?”

            “I have no idea, Troy. But I don’t think anyone would really want to watch it.”

            “Why not? We had pirates, a storm, deserts, lemurs…ooh, we need a hot babe! Like, we pick her up on our way to the Gulf of Mexico, and we have this whole bromance where we fight over her the whole way, but eventually she winds up with me because I’m _slightly_ more of the bad boy type than you, and that’s the one who always gets the girl…” Troy trailed off because LeVar was laughing. “What? Too crazy?”

            “Nah. I was just thinking that if I _had_ to go through this whole ordeal again, well, I’d still choose to go with you. You’ve made this awfully entertaining, Troy.”

            He grinned. “Awesome.”

            “But I don’t think we should have a hot woman in the story. My wife wouldn’t be happy about it.”

            “Whoa, you’re married?”

            LeVar held up a finger with a ring. “Um, yes.”

            “And she’s cool with you doing this?”

            “She knows I’ve wanted to do some traveling, so she’s been supportive. Didn’t you wonder who it was I always contacting whenever we stopped?”

            Troy hadn’t thought about it, which made him feel either dumb or too self-centered. “You wanna tell me about her?”

            LeVar’s face brightened, and he sat down and began telling Troy about how they’d met, and about their daughter, and it occurred to Troy that tonight, maybe, they’d really become friends.


	16. Old, New, Borrowed, and Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I altered the end of chapter 14 slightly because I felt it was a little too dark. Not much of a change, nothing that affects the plot, but let me know what you think.
> 
> Meanwhile, this chapter was so hard to write, but fortunately every time I got stuck, I worked on the next two, so hopefully they should be up soon. My goal is still to finish the fic before the season ends.

The next month was intense for everyone.

 

As his fiancée fretted, Rick tried to reassure her. “Britta, this isn’t an official marriage, we could just have it by ourselves, you know. We don’t really need to make a big deal out of it or anything.”

            “Rick, I am not getting married without my friends being there. It’s not ‘official,’ but when that happens it’ll just be signing some papers. This? This is the important part. And not _nearly_ enough of them are coming.”

            Shirley had said she’d go, reluctantly, but she refused to bring her children. “I’m sorry, Britta, I know it’s your wedding and you get to choose to be married however you want, but I don’t want to confuse my boys into thinking I approve of heathenism by bringing them.”

            Annie had agreed to come, of course, and to force Jeff to come with her. Rachel and Abed promised they’d attend, and volunteered to bring friends to fill seats if she felt she needed it. Hickey… well, she didn’t know him very well anyway, so it didn’t bother her when he just rolled his eyes and muttered “Leave me outta this.”

            The refusal that hurt was Duncan turning her down. When he learned the date (March 19th), he told her that he unfortunately had an unmovable family commitment.

            “Really? You can’t come? But you’re basically the reason Rick and I are together in the first place!”

            “I know, and if it weren’t urgent, I would certainly make it. But my mother's been so sick and all, we have to meet to settle things.”

            Britta suspected he was lying, though. He had trouble meeting her eye every time he excused himself. Jeff refused to even discuss her impending matrimony, only making vague noises of assent whenever Annie prompted him. If Duncan was refusing to even come, he must have had an even lower opinion of her decision.

            Well fine! If neither of them were romantic enough to understand the feeling of true love, then they could both stick it in their eyes and smoke it or however that saying went.

            Without Duncan or Hickey, that left her with only five guests, so she finally gave Rachel and Abed permission to find _trustworthy_ butts to fill the seats at her wedding. If she was going to reinvent the institution of marriage for an egalitarian worldview, then there were going to be witnesses, damnit!

 

Chang continued to come to meetings to chat and make probing questions in regards to what they knew about City College. They, in turn, danced around the issue and played dumb as much as possible. Any _real_ conversations amongst them happened in writing, on paper, because Chang suspected that City College was now likely monitoring his emails, and possibly those of everyone else in the group.

            For Chang in particular, the stress of living a double-life was clearly wearing him down. His steps dragged, and he had a bit of the crazed appearance he’d had early in their third year. Jeff did not like the idea of Chang heading down that road again, so he goaded Duncan into inviting them to a “professors’ night” at his house. “Come on, Ian, we’ll just talk about stupid stuff like soccer and how much Simon Cowell sucks, and completely forget about Subway and City College for the evening. We could _all_ use an excuse to blow off steam.”

            Duncan looked a little sourly at the math instructor, who was currently making elaborate statues out of paperclips. “But must we do it with _him_?”

            “Ian, part of the reason we stay friends with Chang is that when he’s lonely, he has this tendency to turn evil. I’m going to remind you that you weren’t—”

            “Yes, yes, I know, I wasn’t there your third and fourth years, if I had a nickel for every time one of you people said that…”

            So he consented, albeit grudgingly, to hosting a small get-together for the three of them at his place. Jeff brought the booze, and was relieved to see Chang finally unwind and return to his normal, strange, but non-malevolent self.

            When Duncan opened a second beer, Jeff took it neatly out of his hands and handed it over to Chang, who began to chug down with delight. Duncan scowled for a moment, but finally patted Jeff’s shoulder. “Thank you for that.”

            “You asked, I’m doing it. Believe me, you don’t want to get so bad that Annie decides to hold an intervention for you.” He gave Duncan a long look. “Seriously, though, are you keeping it together?”

            “I’ve managed to stay under my limit consistently.”

            “You know that’s not what I meant.”

            “I’m choosing to _avoid_ it, Jeff.”

            Jeff gave Chang a meaningful glance, and when he noticed, he loudly announced “I’m going to go get some more chips, guys! Don’t Chang the channel!” and went to Duncan’s kitchen.

            “Yeah, I know that’s the strategy you want to take, because your spine has all the consistency of homemade Jell-O, but I want someone on my side to convince Britta that she’s being an idiot. You don’t have to tell her why you’re _really_ against it. I mean, you’re a psychologist, you have to have books and data about relationships and how getting married to someone you barely know is stupid.”

            “You’re asking me to get involved, and the answer is no. I’m only in this situation because I let myself get too involved with her in the first place. I don’t talk about the wedding, I certainly don’t _attend_ the wedding, and then she’ll be married and it will be over.”

            “Ian, from personal experience, I can assure you that ignoring it will not solve your problems.”

            “I’m British, Jeff, we mastered the art of repression long before you yanks had even heard of it.”

            “You can’t avoid her completely. She’s in your class, you’re on the committee…”

            “I can avoid anything one-on-one.”

            “Academic advising is coming up soon.”

            “Blast,” Duncan cursed. “I almost forgot about that. I need to put a sign-up sheet on my door.”

            “Have you decided what you’re going to recommend to her? _We_ think she needs to switch majors…”

            “That’s advisor-student privilege, Jeff. Meanwhile, have _you_ decided what _you’re_ going to do next year? Going to give in and rejoin the evil world of lawyering, or continue having this dead-end job suck away your life year by year?”

            “I don’t know yet. It… it may depend on where Annie gets work.” Jeff was studying his beer can intently, and although Duncan had several quips about balls and chains lined up in reply, he decided that, given how gracious Jeff had been in putting up with his romantic misery, he might just cut his friend some slack tonight.

            Chang returned, bearing a bowl of chips the size of his head. “Man, you _guys_!” he declared cheerfully, “we have got to start doing this like all the time!”

            “Oh _please_ , no,” Duncan muttered under his breath, as Chang turned the volume up on the TV.

 

The annual Greendale Dog Show would not be your typical date for anyone other than the city’s two deans. Craig Pelton was sitting in the audience as the finalists began trotting around the auditorium. He didn’t even turn when the empty seat next to him became occupied.

            “Some fine specimens here today,” Spreck whispered, as he placed a hand on Pelton’s leg.

            “Stephen, please, I’m here to watch the show.”

            “You can keep your eyes on the dogs. It’s other parts of you I’m more interested in.”

            Craig blushed, but he’d chosen the bleacher furthest back for a reason; they were completely alone. That still didn’t meant he wasn't feeling a little bit guilty about this. “Stephen, you are a wicked, _wicked_ man.”

            “Oh, you don’t know the _half_ of it…”

 

Britta sat down in a chair, with the desk between them. Duncan was actually surprised at how calm he felt about this whole business by now. Some part of him had simply resigned itself to having a cordial, professional relationship with Britta, which was all for the best. It didn’t matter what Jeff thought; keeping his distance from her was obviously the solution.

            He cleared his throat. “So, first of all, what were you thinking of doing once you’ve graduated? I see from your grades this semester that you’ll actually be able to do it this time around.”

            “Well,” Britta shifted in her seat. “I was thinking of continuing on to a graduate program in psychology. My end goal is to be a therapist, and you need some kind of degree higher than a bachelor’s for that, right?”

            “Oh.” Now it was Duncan’s turn to shift uncomfortably. “Now, Britta, I know you may not like hearing this—”

            Britta sighed and rolled her eyes.

            “No, listen. I’m merely saying that I don’t think that’s the best idea in the world.”

            “Right. Sure, that’s what everyone tells me. Go into English, Britta, or philosophy, you’re a terrible psychologist, you really Britta everything up!”

            “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s merely…a degree from Greendale may not get you admitted into a graduate psychology program. Most students who’ve I’ve advised have used their degree as a supplement for another field.”

            “Like what? I _want_ to be a therapist, it’s kind of my dream.”

            Duncan opened a drawer and began pulling out fliers. “Well, social psychology could work towards a political science or sociology degree, both of which would suit your activism.” He handed her the information from other schools in the area. “Your degree here would cover all the general education requirements plus the beginning of both of those, you’d only need another year or so.”

            “Political activism isn’t something you need a degree for. Colleges will just convince you that the status quo is worth maintaining. They have to, they owe too much to the establishment. As a psychiatrist, I can actually _help_ people, one-on-one.”

            “Right.” Duncan opened a second drawer. “Well, if _that’s_ really what you want, there is the option I thought most likely.” He handed her another leaflet.

            Britta stared at the paper blankly. “Social work?”

            “I know it’s working in the system and all that, but it’s a way to help all those starving children and abused women you care about so much. From what I can tell, they really need people with a passion for it, since social workers have a pretty high burn-out rate.”

            Britta was very quiet as she read it over. Her brow began to furrow, and she seemed upset.

            “If it’s not appealing, we can think of something else. If you took a research assistant position over the summer, that could count a lot towards your admittance in a more rigorous psychology program—”

            “It’s not that,” she said, setting the papers down and looking at him. “How do you know me so well?”

            “My life _has_ rather revolved around you the last few months, Britta.”

            “True.” She handed back the pamphlets on sociology and political science, but tucked the social work information into her bag with a slight smile. “I’ll think about it. Can we talk later, once I’ve made up my mind?”

            “Of course.” He stretched his hand across the desk and they shook on it.

            “I’m kind of amazed I’ve been able to keep up with classes, honestly, with all the insanity we’ve been dealing with.”

            “I can tell you from experience that sobriety makes all the difference. And besides,” he grinned, “it’s all been rather exciting, hasn’t it? All this fleeing mercenaries, secret meetings, spying on City College. Terrifying, of course, but there’s a bit of head-rush from the thrill of it all, isn’t there?”

            Britta’s face froze for a moment, and a worried expression crossed her face.

            “Are you all right?”

            “No, it’s… nothing. Just a weird thought. Don’t worry about it.” She stood up quickly. “I, uh, I’ll be busy with planning…everything for a while, but uh, I’ll think about everything you said and…I can’t convince you to come to the wedding? I’d really like you to be there.”

            _I know, but I **can’t** be there because I will ruin things for the two of you_. Out loud, all Duncan said was “I can’t avoid it. I’ll come to your real wedding, whenever that is, promise.”

            “Okay.” She gave him a small wave before leaving. “See you in class.”

            Duncan let out a long sigh. Well, that had gone better than he’d expected. She’d be married in a few weeks, and he could put this all behind him.

 

Chang had handed over a flashdrive with the encrypted file to Rachel in person rather than risk sending it to her in an email. She went to work decrypting it…

            …or more accurately, finding a friend online who could decrypt things. Rachel didn’t mind the group thinking of her as a technical wunderkind, but the truth was her personal skill really only extended to website design. Her network of internet friends, though? They’d been busily tracing down the money pouring into both Subway and now City College. They were pulling up some sick stuff. Mercenaries that made Blackwater seem noble in comparison, extremist groups, corporate lobbies…Rachel didn’t feel at all guilty hiding this from the rest of the group, because she knew her online network could keep a secret, and had better protection of their identities than the committee at this point.

            Abed knew, of course, but he trusted her judgment, and letting her network deal with things gave them time to focus on the deans.

            “And with this,” Rachel told him as she adjusted another setting, “students can check their grades within 24 hours of you posting them.”

            “That is _excellent_ work, Rachel!” the dean said as he scrolled through the page. “We could save ourselves quite a bit of cash by not having to mail out grade reports. I really should have formed this committee years ago, you have been so helpful to me!” He patted her on the head.

            Abed entered the office and knocked on the doorjamb. “Dean Pelton, can I talk with Rachel?”

            The dean beamed. “Oh, of course! Don’t let me keep two little lovebirds apart!”

            “We’re not dating,” Rachel explained for the fifth time since she’d begun working on the dean’s project.

            “Oh, relationships come in all different shapes and sizes.” His eyes trailed off, with a bit of a knowing grin floating on his lips. “Hmm…”

            “Have you been seeing your ‘old friend’ again?”

            “Why Rachel! What have I said about inappropriate conversations?” He quickly looked left and right before leaning in to whisper in her ear, “But if you must know…then yes.”

            She gave him a thumbs up. That was Abed’s cue. “By the way, the committee was thinking of doing an interschool event. Would you and Dean Spreck be able to work something out together?”

            Pelton’s cheeks turned slightly pink. “Oh, well, I don’t know if he’d want to, um, he was saying the other day that there was something big coming up at City College.” He frowned. “Or was that innuendo?” When he saw Rachel and Abed’s quizzical expressions, he cleared his throat. “Anyhoo! I think that Steph—Dean Spreck will be too busy to worry about anything like that.”

            The two students just nodded, and headed off out of the office. It would be hard prying clues out of the dean so long as he wouldn’t admit he was seeing Spreck. But Rachel hoped that if she kept working with him and being helpful, he’d eventually spill the beans.

 

The awkwardness of stage 2 made the awkwardness of stage 1 feel like a casual walk in the park. It wasn’t that Jeff and Annie didn’t _like_ stage 2. Actually, the problem was precisely the opposite. Because when things would start moving in a stage 2 direction, they got very, _very_ likable, and then they’d both back out as quickly as possible.

            “I’m so sorry, Jeff,” Annie apologized after aborting a particularly steamy make-out session. “I feel like I’m back to being a teenager every time I do this, but I just don’t feel quite ready to take the next step here. I mean, if I feel nervous like this, I pretty sure the sex will suck.”

            “No, I get it,” Jeff said, glancing towards the bathroom where he would be taking a cold shower in about five minutes. “I’m not ready either, so don’t worry.”

            Jeff was lying a little with that, though. He wasn’t nervous about sleeping with her, at all. He was ready for that – _more_ than ready, and it was causing him a considerable amount of physical discomfort, not to mention all the extra boxes of tissues he had to purchase.

            No, his problem was that he couldn’t help thinking about what was on the other side of sleeping with Annie: _don’t break up with her…ever_. That was enough to make him want to stay at stage 2 as long as possible. As long as he was anxious about _that_ , he knew he was just going to screw things up.

            Of course, Annie wasn’t an idiot, and she suspected that more was bothering Jeff than he let on. She was secretly hoping they’d have another huge fight that would bring all their tension out into the open so it could be resolved. Unfortunately all her energy was tied up into the committee, and she didn’t have time to think of any fights to pick.

            “So with that, I think we’ve got the last of the racist iconography removed from the school,” Annie said perkily. She looked around the table, waiting for a sign of approval. They were fairly empty that day, since Hickey, Chang, and Duncan were all at advising during their free time this week. “The dean has asked our opinion on whether we should put out a press release on that or not…”

            “Not,” Shirley muttered. “Believe me, nobody outside of campus knew about that abomination, and we don’t want to spread it around.”

            “Well, I suppose we could put it to a vote…” she glanced at the three vacant chairs. “Did we ever settle on a number for a quorum?”

            “That reminds me,” Britta pointed at Jeff. “Why aren’t _you_ guiding our fellow students along the academic way?”

            “Because, Britta, there is no pre-law degree at Greendale, ergo I have no one to advise. And even if I _do_ decide to stay another year, I doubt there will be one anytime soon. We’re too small a school.”

            “Well, since Chang isn’t here…” Annie glanced at the study room door, making sure that saying it out loud hadn’t summoned his presence. “Could we go back to talking about _really_ important things? Do you have any updates?”

            Rachel and Abed shared a look. “I’m almost done on the file,” she said. “I’ve been compiling a list of all the connections who’ve been funding Subway’s project. We’ll be bringing a lot of bad people down whenever we’re able to expose them.”

            “Meanwhile Dean Spreck has apparently told Dean Pelton that something is happening at City College.” Abed frowned. “Or he may have been hitting on him.”

            “So nothing we didn’t already know.” Jeff sighed. “Okay, Rachel? The moment you crack that file, get it to Hickey so we can start thinking of countermeasures.”

            “Jeff, we can’t take care of this ourselves!”

            “It’s Greendale, Annie, if we don’t do it, it doesn’t get done. I seem to remember somebody saying that recently.”

            “You think we can stop a giant attacking robot?”

            “Sabotage!” Abed declared, his face growing excited. “We undermine it before they have a chance to launch it! Rick was able to break into their facilities, and with a team, we could do even better!”

            “Or we could epically fail,” Rachel added. “One of those two.”

            There was a knock on the glass, and they saw Chang on the other side. “Hey you guys!” he yelled through, his voice muffled. “The dean told me to tell you he wants you to tell him what you think about that press release.”

            Jeff sighed again. “And once more, saving the world gets second billing after saving this school.”

            They all filed out, but Annie grabbed Britta’s sleeve before she could leave. “So, Britta,” she almost giggled. “Do you have your four things yet?”

            “My four what?”

            “You know! ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue?’ It’s traditional!”

            “Ugh, if by traditional you mean from a Victorian-era poem, sure! It’s a completely arbitrary list that only became popularized by mass media dispersion. How would I even bring those with me to a Wiccan handfasting? Those are all about making up your own traditions.”

            “Oh. Well, I always thought it would be fun trying to come up with all of them. Kind of like a premarital scavenger hunt.”

            Britta thought for a moment, looking around the committee room. “I’ve got old friends, possibly a new major, a bunch of borrowed guests…speaking of which, have you seen the list Rachel and Abed made? I swear, I don’t know half these people.” She pulled out the sheet of paper and handed it to Annie.

            “Hmm…Pavel’s an old friend of Abed’s, Cindy’s in his film class, Vicki and Neil you know, and everyone else is from the roleplaying guild.” When Britta gave her a funny look, Annie twirled her hair. “I…may have gone to a couple of sessions. It’s kind of fun pretending to be a fantasy character.”

            “Well, I’ve got three of the four,” Britta declared. “So…I suppose maybe I could wear something blue? Just to make you happy.”

            “Really?!”

            “You’re about my only friend who’s been supportive of me getting married, so I feel like I owe you one. Also, I do look damn good in blue.”

 

“Hey, I’m sorry I can’t give you any more information. But either they don’t know, or they don’t trust me enough to talk about it around me.”

            Chang was in Spreck’s office. City College’s dean had leaned back in his chair, fingers tented, and he looked searchingly at his erstwhile spy. “Indeed, your recordings have been anything _but_ useful. Fairly mundane conversations. You’re an abysmal math instructor, by the way.”

            Chang scowled at him.

            “The only point of interest I could find was something this ‘Ian Duncan’ said, something about ‘avoiding it’? What is _it_? Does it have any connection to Mr. Nadir’s suspicions?”

            “That? Oh no, man, he was talking about Britta. He’s wanted to bang her for ages, but she’s seeing some other guy.”

            “Really? Any of the other people in your group?”

            Chang’s stomach twisted. He considered saying Jeff, but Jeff had been the one talking to Duncan. Hickey and Abed were out of the question, no way would Spreck believe those. As close to the truth as possible, then. “No, he’s somebody she met off campus. Don’t know who.”

            “Interesting,” Spreck replied. “Well, Chang, I’m going to send you in for another week just to see if you can dig up anything else at all. And perhaps this time…” Spreck glanced up at the ceiling. “You could ask Cra—Dean Pelton a little about me. I’d like to know if he suspects anything.”

            Chang gave Spreck a long, sideways glance. He remembered the folder full of the dean’s photos, though he couldn’t let Spreck know he’d seen them. “Uh, do you have like a crush on him or something?”

            Spreck spluttered, “Of course not! Don’t be absurd! I would never have _feelings_ for such a—such a miserable excuse for a dean! No, just…test the waters with him, that’s all. And don’t forget, your freedom depends on your continued _usefulness_ to me.”

            Chang gulped. “I’ll do my best.”

            “You can go now.” Spreck waved him away. Chang exited the office, but not seeing anyone else around, stayed behind and listened in through the crack.

            Spreck was on the phone with someone. “It’s possible they have a contact off campus,” he was saying. There was a pause. “No, I don’t know if it’s him, but—” Another silence, this one pretty long. When Spreck began to speak again, there was a slight tremor in his usual arrogant tone. “Of course I will investigate further, you will not be disappointed. In the meantime, though, I think it might be best to shift our schedule forward. Can you make the delivery soon?”

            Chang strained against the crack, knowing this could be vitally important.

            “Good,” Spreck replied to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Good. We’ll proceed to Phase Blue.”


	17. Why Waste a Wedding?

“It’s insane, Buzz, I tell you. She’s known this man for all of three months! And now she wants to have some sort of…druid wedding or something, I have no idea.”

            “Shirley, what have I said about the love lives of our committee?”

            “You don’t want to hear about it, I know. But we have to do something! We’re the older, more responsible ones!”

            “Look, one thing I’ve figured out in life, you gotta let other people make their own mistakes. They don’t learn otherwise. And I don’t think Britta’s going to listen to you or anybody about this. She’s got to make up her own mind.”

            Shirley pouted and fiddled with the straw of her virgin mudslide. It was the night before Britta’s wedding, and she was regretting agreeing to attend. “I just think she’s moving way too fast into something she’s not ready for.”

            Hickey nodded sympathetically. “I know, you want to protect your friend. I feel the same way about Annie being with Winger. But they’re not our kids. We don’t get to tell them what to do. Speaking of your real kids,” he changed the subject, “how’re Elijah and Jordan doing in school?”

            “Well, Elijah will be going to high school next year. So I suppose I’ll have to start dealing with all this googly-eyed foolishness from him too.”

            “Here’s to hoping he’s google-eyed at girls. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with it,” he clarified, “but it’s damn hard to be a gay teenager, let me tell you. My son’s still in therapy more than a decade later.”

            “Hmm, well, Andre’s church is more tolerant of things like that.” Shirley pursed her lips. In her estimation, the UCC barely counted as Christians, and she was sure Andre had mostly joined because he read somewhere that Obama was a member.

            “What does your church think of your divorce?”

            Shirley twirled her straw a few more times. “I, um, haven’t told them yet.”

            “Shirley…”

            “Buzz, you don’t understand! My church means the world to me, and my reverend’s been very kind, but most of the congregation’s a bunch of old gossips who want nothing better than to roast a woman over the coals as a sinner. If they knew one of their friends had finally gotten divorced, without any hope of reconciliation? I wouldn’t be excommunicated, but I would be made to feel most unwelcome.”

            “So what? You keep your head up and keep going, it’ll stick in their craws.”

            “You can say that, you don’t have to go there, by yourself, every week.”

            “Neither do you. Just go when your boys come over. Would they insult you in front of them?”       

            “You don’t know these women, Buzz.”

            “I’ve met some like them.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, Shirley. I’m not the churchgoing type, so I never had to deal with this crap after my divorces.”

            She gave him a sweet smile. “You’re welcome to come with me. For moral support?”

            “Nice try. I’m not getting saved that easy.”

            Shirley laughed. She’d gotten used to the idea that most of her closest friends were probably not going to be spending eternity with her… but then again, though she’d never admit it to anyone, she also hoped that maybe she might find herself pleasantly surprised.

 

Everyone else in the old study group had gathered at a bar to have a sort of co-ed bachelorette party. There would be no strippers of either sex, since Britta considered that profession objectifying regardless of whether they were men or women, but they kept the drinks and goodwill going amongst the four of them.

            Britta did her best not to let her growing concern show to her friends.

            When they had all gotten tipsy, Annie stood up, fourth appletini in hand, and shouted, “A toast! I’m giving a toast, and then you two have to do it too!” She pointed a finger at Abed and Jeff, in that order, almost tipping over on the second jab.

            “Annie, sit down, you’re hammered,” Jeff said, tugging on her shirt.

            “No! I’m Britta’s best girlfriend…girl _friend_ , you know what I mean! So I have to say something.” She took a deep breath. “I am so happy for you. Like, so happy. I’ve watched you go through guys over the years, and every time…” she looked down at Jeff, “okay, _almost_ every time, I hoped you’d found Mr. Right. So you getting married, it’s like this hope that we’re all going to meet somebody someday and we can all be happy, you know?” Annie sniffed, as she was getting teary eyed.

            Jeff tugged harder this time, bringing her back to her seat. “Apologies, it appears my girlfriend is a weepy drunk.”

            “Aw, you called me your girlfriend in front of everyone!”

            “A _maudlin_ , weepy drunk.”

            Abed rose from his seat. He’d been downing glasses of water and Advil in between his drinks, having decided he never wanted a hangover again. He was still blinking a little harder than usual, but he managed to clear his throat and lift his glass.

            “Nobody knows Britta like I do. Not you,” he pointed at Annie, “not you,” and then Jeff, “not you, not you,” Abed was now pointing to random strangers, “not nobody knows Britta like I do. No one. I can’t even tell you what we’ve been through, because we made a pact more important than blood.”

            Annie looked at Britta, shocked, but her friend just made a face to indicate her own confusion.

            “What I can tell you is this. This is not Britta’s first marriage.”

            Both Annie and Britta were horrified. “What?!”

            “There was a whore in Las Vegas a couple of years ago—”

            “Seriously, Abed?” Jeff interrupted him. “You went with the awful _Hangover_ sequel for your toast?”

            Abed shrugged. “I’ve been drinking, Jeff. It’s all my brain could come up with.”

            “That leaves you now,” Annie said, poking his leg under the table with her toe. “Be nice.”

            Jeff sighed and rose to his feet. It would appear he’d been drinking a little less than his friends that evening, but Britta was bracing for the worst from him. Annie had been encouraging, Abed a friendly neutral, but Jeff? Jeff thought marriage was a joke, and hers the biggest laugh ever.

            He cleared his throat, looked at Annie’s beseeching eyes, and raised his glass. “Well, I suppose all of you know my opinions on marriage already, so I won’t start with that. Or with a dictionary definition. And I don’t know Rick very well, so I can’t talk about him.

            “But I do know Britta. In every sense of the term.” He winked at her, and then winced when Annie kicked him under the table. “What I’m saying is, I started out thinking she might be the love of my life, only to realize she was… but it was the best kind of love, the one between friends. You are amazing and deserve all the happiness life has to offer.”

            Britta smiled bashfully. So far, so good. Maybe Jeff was going to be supportive tonight.

            “Anyway, sometime in our third year, we started using Britta’s name as a verb to mean making a minor mistake that screwed up everything. And it could easily be argued that deciding to marry someone you have known for, collectively, maybe three months, and who is being hunted by an evil world-conquering sandwich corporation would definitely constitute one such mistake.”

            Britta could feel her blood pressure rising, and she clenched her fists, ready to pound his face in.

            “But,” Jeff continued, “that was then. Since then I’ve used her name to mean when you make a mistake that _should_ screw up everything, yet somehow manage to pull through in the end, by pure determination. So, Britta – here’s to you having Brittaed marriage in the best way possible.”

            Britta felt her heart melting, and she jumped to her feet to hug him, sloshing half his drink onto the floor and half onto Annie. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she apologized to the two of them.

            Annie wiped scotch off of her face. “No, it’s your party. Just give me my boyfriend back when you’re done.”

            A few rounds later, they all called it quits and all called cabs. Abed and Annie were propping each other up while Jeff settled their enormous tab.

            “Tomorrow’s a Friday. Don’t you have morning classes?” Britta massaged her temples.

            “Yup,” Jeff replied. “But hopefully Annie should be hungover enough to not notice if I half-ass it.”

            She gestured at the register. “Thanks for covering this. And for not bashing on me in your toast.”

            He shrugged. “I thought about trying to talk you out of it, but I’ve never been able to talk you out of anything.”

            “Maybe. But…I have been worried about something.”

            He looked up from signing his credit card receipt. “Really?”

            “I’ve just been thinking…do you remember how you asked me not to get addicted to a third thing? Well, what if all this,” she gestured around absently, “ _business_ with Subway is my third thing? What if I’ve gotten addicted to fighting the machine?”

            “Britta, don’t be ridiculous. You’ve _always_ been into this kind of thing. Of course you’re excited right now. That doesn’t mean you’re _addicted_ to it. I’m pretty sure you can only be addicted to chemical substances. Check with Annie, she should know.”

            “I know, I just…” Britta shook her head. “I guess it’s just pre-wedding jitters.”

            “But if you’re at all uncertain about getting married, you should know we’ll have your back, whatever decision you make.”

            “Thanks,” she replied, but it didn’t stop the butterflies in her stomach.

 

The day of the wedding came, with Annie nursing her throbbing head through all her classes. Here she was, thinking ill of how much Jeff drank, when _she’d_ been the one to get wasted the night before. She remembered enough of it to know she’d made a fool of herself, and that Jeff had actually been very sweet towards Britta, which made her happy.

            They both got dressed up that evening, with Annie putting on a skirt and a blouse for the first time in months. Jeff was wearing one of his typical casual suits, and she asked him to put on a tie.

            “This wedding is supposed to be inconspicuous. If we all show up in tuxes, Rick’s cover is blown, Subway finds us out, and deathbots run amok in the United States. It’s not just style, Annie, I’m going without a tie for the good of the country.” He gave her calves a long stare. “But I _do_ like what you’re wearing, milady.”

            Annie blushed, and shimmied her shoulders in delight. “You don’t look so bad yourself, milord, even without a tie.”

            He offered her his arm, and she took it, and they stayed linked as far as the end of the elevator ride. After that, it was back to the just-friends act as they took Jeff’s car to Britta’s apartment.

            “By the way,” Annie said, as they drove along, “I’m really glad you made that speech to Britta last night. It means a lot that you’re getting over your bias against marriage.”

            He snorted dismissively. “Yeah, I wouldn’t say _that_ , Annie. I may be hoping she’ll Britta it the good way, but I’m fairly certain she’ll Britta it the bad way. She and Rick will be happy for a while, then they’ll realize they’re practically strangers, then the fighting will begin, they’ll break up, and I will get to return that ‘I told you so’ she gave us.”

            “Oh come on, you can’t muster the teensiest bit of optimism for Britta’s sake? She seems really happy.”

            “She seemed really happy with Troy, too, and look how that ended.”

            They’d reached Britta’s apartment, and they could tell from the lack of parking that most of the other guests had already arrived.

            “Not all relationships end in disaster, Jeff. We’ve all had enough bad ones that one of us _has_ to get lucky, just by rules of probability if nothing else.”

            “And you think Britta and Rick are that couple?”

            She hesitated, but shrugged. “They might be! I want to believe in true love.”

            Jeff buzzed Britta’s intercom. “It’s Jeff and Annie, you ready for us up there?”

            Britta’s voice came back. “Absolutely, we're all waiting.”

            The door unlocked, and they began heading up. “Look, Annie, if Abed were here, I’m sure he could give you the whole Don Draper speech word-for-word about how love is something we’re sold by advertising companies, but it’s true. Love is the prize we’re all supposed to be competing for, but at the end of the day, it’s just that, a game, and if you don’t have a friendship behind it, love is meaningless.”

            Annie stayed silent for a while. She didn’t like hearing this, not from Jeff, not after everything they’d been doing the last few months. “So you really don’t think marriages _ever_ last?”

            “I know that, statistically speaking, there have to be couples who manage to stay together permanently. But I’ve yet to meet anyone like that in real life, so I tend to conclude that they are hypothetical, and probably only doing it because they’re in some religion that won’t let them divorce.”

            That hit Annie like a slap, and she straightened her back. “Well, I’m glad to know that’s still how you feel.” She quickened her pace down the hall.

            “Oh _shit_ , Annie, I didn’t mean _us_ , okay, we _have_ a friendship, wait…”

            She didn’t feel like listening to him, and knocked loudly on Britta’s door.

            “Annie, I know you’re pissed but—”

            Whatever he was going to say was interrupted when Britta flung the door open. She was dressed in a long blue sleeveless dress with a garland of flowers in her hair. She was absolutely stunning, and for a moment Annie forgot how upset she was. “You’re so beautiful!” she cried, as she threw her arms around Britta’s neck.

            “Come on in,” Britta told them. “You’re the last ones to show up.”

            Her apartment was arranged with all the furniture pushed to the walls and large number of folding chairs (no idea who had provided those, probably Abed or one of his guests) set up in rows. The seats were almost all filled, about fifteen people total, most of whom were Abed and Rachel’s invites. There were two empty spots left next to Shirley, and Jeff and Annie took them, even though Annie really didn’t want to be sitting next to him right then.

            Rick was waiting at the front in a nice suit, standing beside the priestess, who had on a long robe bedecked with pentacles and sun symbols. She smiled at the couple, and at the crowd. “If there is anyone here who knows of any reason these two should not be bound together, let them come forward. If not, let the rite commence.”

            Annie glared suspiciously at Jeff, but thankfully he stayed silent.

            The priestess then began invoking the four elements by waving a wand in the four directions of the world, and a lot of other things that didn’t make much sense to most of the guests, since none of them were Wiccans. Shirley was clearly gritting her teeth through the paganism, and Annie could hear her making little prayers for the Lord’s forgiveness for participating in the ritual.

            And then the priestess finally got around to presenting the vows, turning first to Rick.

            “Do you agree to enter into this ceremony, to honor, love, and find life’s joy with this woman?”

            Rick took a deep breath, his eyes briefly wandering out into the crowd, before saying, “Yes, I do.”

            “And do you agree to enter into this ceremony, to honor, love and find life’s joy with this man?”

            Britta opened her mouth, but words weren’t coming out.

            She gulped, tried again, and still nothing. Everyone began murmuring, wondering what was going on.

            Finally, she blurted out, “No, I don’t!”

            Annie gasped in shock while Shirley muttered “Thank the Lord.”

            Rick looked positively stunned. “But, Britta, you… you wanted this so much…”

            “I know! And I’m sorry, but… I don’t know if I’m really madly in love with you, or if I’m just feeling all the excitement from everything with Subway, and that’s making me _think_ I’m madly in love with you. I mean, I _like_ you, I don’t want us to break up, but I can’t marry you until I know for certain.”

            “Really?” Rick gasped and put a hand to his heart. “Oh thank God,” he glanced at the priestess, “er, Goddess. Britta, I…I like you too, but I don’t want us to get married yet either.”

            “What? But… _you_ proposed to _me_!”

            “No, I…I know it sounded that way, but I-I-I never meant to propose to you, I was just going to offer a plan to keep you safe, but then you thought I’d proposed, and you were so happy I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint you.”

            “Seriously?” Britta was aghast. “Oh crap, I totally Brittaed this, didn’t I? In the worst way!”

            “No, no, I should have thought about what it sounded like I was saying! Or figured out a way to break things off before this. This is my fault.”

            “No, it’s mine.”

            “No, really, it was me.”

            “For crying out loud, it was both of you!” Shirley shouted. “Now, if you’re through with all the apologizing, just finish this nonsense already.”

            Britta and Rick looked at each other sheepishly, but they did hug, and their friends all gave a very tentative scatter of applause.

            The priestess looped up the ropes she had been planning to use to bind their hands together. “Well, this is the strangest ceremony I’ve ever presided over,” she said. “I’ve never had one get cancelled before. I feel as though I should refund you.”

            “No!” a voice said from the audience. “No, if you’re already here, then I have something to say.” He stood up and turned to face the woman sitting next to him. “I’ve known you for a long time, and I have never felt this close or this much love for another human being in my entire life. I’ve just been scared to admit it, because, well, I didn’t know how to handle these emotions, or if I was ready to commit yet. But I _do_ know that there’s no one in the world I would rather spend the rest of my life with than you, and I love you so much that I know that you’re the only one for me.”

            He got down on one knee.

            “Vicki, would you marry me?”

            “Oh yes Neil! A thousand times yes!”

            The two of them hugged and kissed, and now everyone broke out into a real ovation, smiling as the two of them went up to the front. Britta handed her bouquet and garland to Vicki, and Rick gave Neil the rings. The priestess skipped her opening rituals and went right to their vows, where they both said “yes” through huge smiles, and they ad libbed their own additions, which included Neil repeatedly referring to Vicki as his Undómiel and Khaleesi, and it was pretty much the nerdiest and most adorable thing ever.

            As everyone clapped when the ceremony finished and the two of them kissed, hands tied together in pagan matrimony, Jeff leaned over to Annie and whispered, “Okay, you know everything I said about marriage earlier? Forget that. These two are going to make it.”

            Annie grinned at him and nodded in agreement.

            When Vicki went to throw the bouquet, she tried to aim it for Britta, as a thank you for letting them take her wedding. She probably would have caught it, too, if Shirley hadn’t given Annie a hard shove from behind to put her in its trajectory. Annie immediately began blushing, and Jeff looked as though he wanted to bolt from the room. Fortunately everyone else just laughed it off, and something of a party commenced.

            Vicki and Neil were holding hands and animatedly planning a _real_ wedding with all their friends and family, as everyone congratulated them. Wine bottles were uncorked and glasses passed around, and the cake was cut after they wiped Rick and Britta’s names off of it. Actually, Rick and Britta looked like the second happiest people in the room after Vicki and Neil. Somebody put on music, and the whole group started dancing.

            After about an hour, there was a bang on the door as a neighbor yelled through it for them to turn down the noise. They decided to call it a night, and everyone packed out of Britta’s place and went to their cars. As the many carpools departed, Jeff took out his cell phone and sent one text.

 

Jeff>wedding got cancelled

 

            He didn’t wait for a reply, because Annie had finished waving everyone goodbye. She skipped over, animated and beaming, and she threw her arms around his neck to kiss him.

            Jeff pulled back. “Annie, we’re in public.”

            “It’s late, nobody’s out.”

            He had to admit she had a point, and kissed her back. “So,” he said, gesturing to the bouquet she was still holding. “You’re the next to get dragged into this mess, huh?”

            “Shirley sort of pushed me into it.”

            “Hmm, well, she’s very worried about us living in sin.”

            “We haven’t even done anything that sinful.”

            “Not yet anyway,” Jeff kissed her again, this time very much at the stage 2 level, and started running his hand up her leg and under her skirt.

            “Jeff!” she swatted his hand away. “What are you doing?”

            “Sorry, it’s just been a while since you’ve been in a skirt, I figured I’d take advantage of that.”

            He was giving her a cocky grin, and Annie suddenly gave him a look. Not her Disney eyes, oh no. Disney would never approve of having this look in their films. “So,” she said slowly, leading his hand back up her skirt. “Should we make _that_ stage 3?”

            Jeff was a little slack-jawed at first, but then he began to smirk. “Why Annie, when did you get this naughty?”

            “A certain somebody corrupted me,” she grinned. “And besides, I think the problem with stage 2 is that it sort of _needs_ a stage 3 after it, don’t you think? Something in between plain making out and, you know…”

            “Getting naked together?”

            She blushed. “Yeah. Does that sound good?”

            “I think I have been waiting for you to say that for the last month.”

            Somehow they managed to disentangle and get into the car, and Jeff broke the speed limit the entire trip back to their apartment.

 

As Troy squirmed and tried to keep his eyes closed, he came to the conclusion, far too late now, that meditation was not his thing. Maybe it was his Jehovah’s Witness upbringing, maybe it was being raised on TV to the point of having no attention span, but mindfulness was never going to work for him.

            After their safari into Madagascar, he and LeVar had decided to risk another adventure, and Troy had decided he wanted to go to a Buddhist monastery and train for a while. It turned out, though, that monks in Sri Lanka weren’t the cool kind from China who did badass martial arts. Apparently they mostly collected food donations, read scriptures, and meditated, a lot. Troy didn’t want to let anyone know he’d gotten them confused with Shaolin monks, so he played along that enlightenment was totally a thing he always wanted.

            He peeked one eye open to watch LeVar, who was totally into it, utterly serene. Troy sighed, and closed his eyes again, but now his butt was itching and he could feel sweat running down his back. It was only March, but it was hot as hell this close to the equator. Apparently you were just supposed to pay close attention to any sensations and thoughts that arose and then just let them go.

            Unfortunately, Troy’s thoughts tended to go something like this: wow it’s hot, like the inside of a toaster oven hot, hmm, toast, I could really go for that right now, with some butter and jelly and peanut butter jelly time peanut butter jelly time, man old pre-youtube memes were the best, even though he’d been too young to get into them back then, Abed had a whole collection that they watched ironically, how was Abed doing? was Rachel replacing him as a friend? was she really Abed with boobs? (and that was literally how he imagined her, Abed, but with boobs, it was weirdly appealing, make of that what you will) speaking of which, whatever happened to Annie’s Boobs? there were lots of monkeys in Sri Lanka, Troy hoped he was with lots of other monkeys…

            There was really no way to channel that stream of consciousness. When they did walking meditation it was a little easier, but not much, because while it focused Troy’s thoughts, but all those thoughts were on how he wished he could wear shoes here.

            Oh well. There was always his next life. Everybody gets second chances.


	18. Love Makes You Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So....last episode....I absolutely hate RetCons and this is a perfect example of why. I expect this kind of sloppiness from other series, not "Community," and the more I've thought about it, the less sense it makes. But rather than go into that here, let's just say that for this story, I will continue on with the characters ages as had been established from all previous continuity.

Annie woke up blearily, and noticed that she’d bunched up her blankets in her arms, the way she did when whatever stuffy she’d chosen that night rolled onto the floor. She considered getting up to search for it, then realized these weren’t _her_ blankets…because this wasn’t _her_ bed.

            She looked over at Jeff, who was still asleep next to her.

            Oh, right. Last night.

            They hadn’t been drunk, so she couldn’t blame it on that. She’d just been so happy about everything that had happened at Britta’s aborted wedding that she’d been completely comfortable making out with Jeff on his bed, letting him slide her pantyhose and underwear off, and having him ask her to tell him what to do and then…okay, there had to be a more romantic term than “fingering,” right? Something that sounded as sexy as it actually was?

            In all of that, whatever nervousness she’d felt had sort of evaporated all at once, and, well…

            _Oh my God, I had sex with Jeff_.

            She took a deep breath to calm herself down. This wasn’t a big deal. They’d known each other nearly five years, they’d been a couple for over a month, they were both adults, and it _had_ been several shades of amazing, so really, there was no need to panic here. What she really needed was a shower, to clear her head, and also because she kind of stank.

            Annie got up quietly, and almost exited Jeff’s room, only to realize that they’d forgotten to close the windows in their, er, haste. She dipped back inside, needing to find _something_ to wear. She settled on Jeff’s shirt, which, because of their height difference, fell nearly to her knees.

            Once covered, she quickly shut the drapes and ran back to her room to retrieve her bathrobe. For the first time since they moved in, she managed to nab the shower before Jeff and wash off all the dried sweat. Annie still felt a little tired and achy, but in a good way…and thinking about it too much made her feel warm and flushed and no! She wasn’t going to ruin everything by acting like an adolescent again, the way she had after their first kiss.

            When she emerged from the bathroom, Annie was startled to find Jeff in his robe, sitting at the dining room table with a bowl of cereal. His hair had _actual_ bedhead, which she’d never witnessed before. Annie smiled at him a little bashfully. “Did I keep you waiting long?”

            “No, I only woke up when I heard the shower start.” Jeff looked slightly anxious. “Um, do you want to talk about things?”

            Annie hesitated for a moment. “Sure.” She sat down across from him.

            “Look, Annie, about last night…”

            “Before you say anything, Jeff, I know I got upset about everything you said about marriage, but I want you to understand that I will _never_ pressure you into making any kind of commitment that you don’t want, okay? Just because we…slept together doesn’t mean that things need to be different somehow. I just… I just don’t like hearing you talk so pessimistically about relationships.”

            “No, I know that, Annie, I got why you were mad.” Jeff shrugged. “I am _never_ going to believe in all that crap about everyone having one true love, or how marriage is this ideal we should all strive for, but…” He took a deep breath and reached across the table to take her hand. “That doesn’t mean I’m not going to work at making _us_ last as long as possible.”

            “Oh.” Annie squeezed his hand. “Good.”

            “But,” Jeff went on, “usually we’ve talked a lot before we…moved ahead. And last night kind of just happened.”

            “I suppose.” Annie shifted her feet under the table. “But I’m _glad_ it happened. Aren’t you?”

            Jeff gave her a long look. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I’m just surprised, is all.”

            “Surprised about what?”

            “That this doesn’t feel… awkward. It seems…kind of _normal_ already.”

            “Speak for yourself,” she said with a shy smile. “I think this is going to take me some time to get used to.”

            A wicked grin began to spread across Jeff’s face. “Well, I don’t have anything else planned today, so…why don’t we ‘get used to it’?”

 

Duncan had one in his class every year. You could tell from the kinds of questions they asked. Usually he just ignored them, or gave them strategic Fs until they dropped the class, but he felt less forgiving today. It probably had something to do with the text Jeff had sent him last Friday night.

            “So, like, women’s brains, they’re wired differently from men’s, right? Like, you give off these signals and—”

            “All right, stop right there,” Duncan interrupted him. “May I ask you something, Mr. Ross?”

            His student was surprised. “Uh, sure.”

            “Are you taking psychology to learn how to seduce women?”

            The young man at least had the decency to look embarrassed when everyone in the room turned to give him recriminating looks. “Not…okay, but that’s just _one_ reason…”

            Duncan sighed and lifted his glasses so he could rub the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but you won’t really be learning anything all that useful here.”

            “But I read—”

            “You read what? Someone website online teaching you how to be a pickup artist? Please.” Duncan watched as his student turned crestfallen, and he sighed. “Listen, believe me, I understand the temptation. You may find it hard to believe, but I’ve had a bit of trouble attracting women.” He gestured to his face and sweater vest, and his class chuckled uncertainly at his self-deprecation.

            “And there’s nothing wrong with looking at yourself, to decide whether the problem’s you. Are you rude? Do you reek of a desperation that women can smell from across the room?” He heaved a fake sigh at that, and now the tension in the room was definitely lightening.

            “But sometimes, even when you’re doing everything right, you will still strike out, repeatedly. And that’s where people like, I dunno, whatshisname, the one in the idiotic hat, Enigmo?”

            “Mysterio?” one student offered.

            “Whatever, he’s a pillock. They claim to give you all the secrets to win women over, and when that fails, as it inevitably will, a lot of men turn into resentful prats.

            “But the thing is,” he continued. “You can do everything right. You can be a good friend, you can be charming,” _you can drive your car off a cliff_ , he thought silently, “but in the end, it all comes down to being lucky enough to meet the right person at the right time in their life. And that means you have to get over feeling like you’re _owed_ a relationship. Which,” he grimaced slightly, “is easier said than done. Because every commercial and movie ever made tells you that if you do things right, you get the girl.

            “But people are complicated, and women can say no…even if that might make you feel bitter at first, you have to let it go, and just…wait to be lucky.”

            His whole class was absolutely silent and watching him with rapt attention, something he wasn’t used to. Duncan cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Well, uh, we’re almost out of time, so why don’t we pick back up with chapter 7 on Wednesday…”

            As the students began to pack their things away, he heard a light rapping on the doorjamb of his classroom. Duncan gulped when he saw Britta standing there.

            “Nice speech.”

            “Er, thanks. Did I say anything too ridiculous?”

            “No, actually, that was some pretty good feminist stuff right there.” She glanced at his emptying classroom. “Do you have a moment to talk?”

            “Of course.” His eyes trailed after his rapidly departing students, dreading the moment he was going to be stuck alone with her.

            “So…I don’t know if you heard about what happened…”

            “Jeff messaged me, but not any details. I’m terribly sorry.”

            “Don’t be. We’re still together, we’re just waiting to get married.”

            “Oh. Well, that’s an eminently sensible decision. What on earth made you change your mind.”

            “You, actually.”

            “Me?”

            “What you said. About how thrilling this all was? I worry I may be more thrilled than in love right now.”

            “Ah.” He hesitated. “I didn’t mean it like that—”

            “But I needed to hear it. I…was ignoring my own doubts, it just finally made me start paying attention again. So, even if it wasn’t intentional, thanks.”

            Duncan found himself smiling. “What are friends for?”

            “Exactly. And besides,” she grinned, “what you really should have told your class is that they need a good wingwoman.” Britta winked at him and waved as she left.

            Duncan flopped into his chair. So all right, perhaps he would never stop being attracted to Britta Perry. She was, after all, very attractive. But he meant what he’d told his class. He was done feeling resentful of Rick, done believing that he could win her over if he just tried a little harder. And it would soon enough be time to take her up on that wingwoman offer.

 

“Has anyone seen Chang around?” Jeff asked near the end of their committee meeting.

            “Not today.” Hickey frowned. “You think he’s gone AWOL again?”

            “Or maybe something happened to him. Should I contact his brother?” Annie offered.

            “It’s only one day,” Shirley pointed out. “Let’s not all panic.”

            “Actually, he talked to me yesterday,” Abed said.

            “Really?” Britta turned to look at him along with everyone else. “About what?”

            “About whether or not Rachel had decrypted the file yet. I told him the truth. We’ve gotten most of it, and it confirms a lot of the other information we’ve been digging up, but the part we think has the plans for the actual robot are still unfinished.”

            “Remember to send me copies,” Hickey reminded them, and Rachel and Abed nodded.

            Jeff frowned. “Any idea why he was asking?”

            Abed was thoughtful. “Nothing specifically, but he did tell me to hurry things up.”

            “So…maybe he knows Subway schedule. Or,” Britta was thinking hard. “he knows that they’re speeding it up for some reason.”

            “Okay, Annie,” Jeff said, “contact his brother. We need to know if Chang’s being stupidly heroic again, quickly.”         

            The group filed out, but Jeff lingered behind, catching Annie’s elbow before she could head out.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”

            He took her back behind the stacks of air conditioner maintenance books, the most abandoned part of the nearly-empty library. Annie looked confused, and it was adorable how naïve she could still be, even after the weekend they’d just spent together. “Jeff, what is it you want to talk about?”

            “Who said I want to talk?” He pulled her up next against him and gave her a very long, deep kiss.

            When he pulled back, Annie was gasping for breath. “What was that about?”

            “I missed you.”

            “We’ve been in the same room for almost two hours.”

            “After an entire day where I didn’t get to see or, more importantly for the current discussion, touch you.” He began kissing her neck.

            “Jeff, no, we can’t.”

            “Why not?” he murmured in her ear. “Nobody’s around.”

            “But we’re part of the committee that put up the ‘no intercourse in the library’ sign. We can’t break that rule!”

            “Oh, were we going to have intercourse? Because I was thinking we would just…” and he whispered in her ear and Annie’s face turned bright and she whispered back, “That _counts_.”

            “Not according to one of our former presidents.”

            “Would it cool you down if I reminded you I was only eight years old when Bill Clinton was impeached?”

            “Ugh, now _why_ would you do that?”

            She giggled, and adjusted his collar so it was lying flat again. “Save it ’til we get back to the apartment, okay?”

            “Jeffrey!”

            They both turned, alarmed, to see the dean standing at the end of the aisle. They tried to move apart as quickly as possible, but you’d have to be an idiot not to realize what they’d been doing. And while the dean might be strange, insecure, and occasionally incompetent, he wasn’t stupid.

            “I…” Jeff’s mouth was trying to work out the appropriate thing to say.

            “It isn’t what you think it is!” Annie tried lying, badly.

            “I _think_ that you two have been keeping something from me,” the dean said, attempting to sound professional, but his voice was hurt. “How long have you been…together? Do I need to get paperwork?”

            “If…” Jeff hesitated. The dean looked upset, but not angry. “If you’re okay with that…”

            “Why wouldn’t I be?” The dean’s voice cracked as he made an effort to smile. “You are both such bright, handsome people, why, we’d all just be thrilled to see you two together!”

            “Dean…” Annie began.

            “No!” He raised a hand, and took a deep breath. “I’m fine! I’ll get everything ready and we can have a meeting tomorrow.” With that he practically ran out of the library.

            “ _Shit!!_ ” Jeff swore as soon as he’d gone. This was the worst possibility he could imagine, and he only has his own libido to blame. “Shit shit shitty shit shit.”

            “Calm down! I need you to be thinking right now, not demonstrating a limited vocabulary.”

            “Annie, we are _screwed_.”

            “You don’t know that! He seemed to be accepting it…even if he obviously didn’t like it. Why don’t we wait to panic until after the meeting tomorrow?”

            “You think he won’t let me go?”

            “Well, there’s only a few more months in the semester, and you weren’t even sure you wanted to come back. And, who knows? Maybe Abed and Rachel’s idea actually worked? Maybe he’s finally over you…?”

 

Pelton met Spreck met at a small club on the north end of town, very discreet and filled with men their age who didn’t want anyone seeing who they were with. It had a kitschy design, and they’d been there several times. Usually Pelton loved it, but tonight, his thoughts kept drifting back to the library. Jeff and Annie… how long had that been happening? And why hadn’t he noticed? And why did this make him so miserable?

            “Craig,” Spreck’s voice broke into his ruminations. They were sitting side by side on the booth behind a table, ignoring a drag performer sing on stage. “Have you been listening to any of the naughty things I’ve been saying to you?”

            “I’m sorry, Stephen, I’m just not sure that I’m in the mood tonight.”

            “You were eager to go when I messaged you a few hours ago. What happened, did your favorite dress get bleach on it?”

            “No! It’s…it’s nothing, it’s just…” Pelton twiddled his thumbs. “As I was on my way out, I ran into a teacher and a student in a… compromising situation.”

            “Oh!” Spreck’s eyebrows rose and he grinned. “Someone’s head is on the chopping block, then, I suppose?”

            “Well, Greendale’s student population has always been a little unorthodox, so as long as they’re not actually _in_ a class with the professor, and so long as everyone is above a certain age, we give them some leeway.”

            “And does this couple meet those requirements?”

            “…Yes. She was in his class last semester, but she’s not anymore. And she’s over 21, so that’s not an issue. Nothing about them is a problem, really, they’re actually a pretty compatible pair, it’s just…”

            Spreck merely raised an eyebrow.

            Pelton sighed. “I felt _jealous_ , if you must know.”

            “Really? Who was the gentleman in question?”

            He flushed. “Jeff Winger.”

            “That scoundrel?!…Hmm, yes, he’s _very_ good looking, I can see where you’d like him.”

            “It’s not just that, Stephen! I’ve realized that I have… _feelings_ for Jeff Winger.”

            He snorted. “Well, of _course_ you do, Craig. Anyone could tell that. And if you could convince him to join us in a threesome, I’d be _more_ than willing.”

            “Stephen!” Craig gasped in dismay, then paused, and shook the thought away. “Okay, as _tempting_ as that sounds, (a) I don’t think he’d go for it, and (b), I thought we had something _special_ , Stephen. How could you want to share me?”

            “Special? Us?” Stephen laughed. “What on _earth_ made you assume that?”

            “But…we’ve been seeing each other several times a week for more than a month now, I assumed that made us…” Pelton leaned in and whispered, “you know, a couple?”

            “Ha! While I will admit our time together has been…amusing, Craig, you of all people must know that in the end, I _loathe_ you.” He hissed it into his ear, but seemed surprised when Pelton didn’t let out his typical ecstatic gasp. “What’s the matter? You usually love it when I do that.”

            “Stephen, I am _trying_ to have a serious conversation with you here! We can flirt later, all right?”

            “Fine.” Spreck pouted. “What is this _serious_ conversation you want to have?”

            “Well, about us! And about… I never realized it until today, but I must have had quite an obvious crush on Jeffrey these past few years. I simply never made the right connections until today.” He sighed. “What a fool I must have looked all this time! Oh, this is so embarrassing!”

            “ _Humiliating_ , I’m sure. After all, _everyone_ took you and your school _so_ seriously.”

            “All right now, stop!” Pelton felt his temper rising. “There is a time and a place for that sort of thing, and that time is not here and that place is not now.” He paused and waved a hand. “Wait, reverse that. The point is,” he went on, “is that I am emotionally vulnerable right now and you are not being particularly supportive.”

            “Please, Craig, the next thing you’re going to do is start asking me if I’m your boyfriend!”

            He laughed dismissively, and Pelton felt his heart twist. He stayed quiet until Spreck had finished his cackling, then, composing himself, he rose from his chair. “Well, Stephen, it seems obvious to me that we both want something different out of this relationship. And if that’s the case, then maybe we should go back to just being good enemies.”

            Spreck’s mocking face froze, and his eyes narrowed. “What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

            “I mean,” Pelton said, with growing confidence. “That it is over between us.”

            “What?!” Spreck sprang to his feet, eyes wide with anger. “Are you _dumping_ me?”

            “How can I dump you, Stephen?” He gave him a triumphant smile. “I was never your boyfriend.”

            And with that, he spun on his heel and strode confidently out of the club, feeling better than he had in a long time. My! He’d really shown it to mean old Spreck, hadn’t he? He, Dean Pelton, wasn’t going to be used by anybody, no sirree. Because he could do better. That’s right, he could, couldn’t he? And maybe he’d even apologize to Jeffrey tomorrow for his past behavior. It still stung to think of him with Annie, but that was something he could move past.

            Pelton was so elated by his break-up that he didn’t notice how much Spreck was fuming behind him.

 

Chang was sitting on his moped outside the club, hiding in the shadows, waiting for the dean of City College to emerge. He saw Pelton leave early, which was unusual. Chang preferred not to think about what was going on between the two of them because it creeped him out – not just the gay thing (Chang didn’t care who considered him a homophobe) but knowing that anyone could be with someone as nasty as Stephen Spreck.

            About fifteen minutes after Pelton’s departure, Spreck himself appeared, and even in the evening hours, across the parking lot, Chang could still see that he was angry. He watched as the dean got into his car and peeled out of the parking lot before turning on his moped and following after him. Chang risked having his lights off to remain unseen, usually a death-wish for a moped-rider, but the streets were empty enough and his mission important enough that he took the chance.

            Spreck didn’t go back to the college or to his house, the way Chang expected, but instead drove outside of the city, following the beltway to the west side of town. The road curved uphill here, towards the nearby mountains, and Chang could feel his moped’s engine straining as the route steepened.

            Finally, Spreck’s car came to a halt outside of a small, undistinguished building along the side of the road. Chang continued past, then double-backed to park a short distance away. He sprinted the rest of the distance back by foot, and began sneaking around the house. It had only one door, and the windows were all barred. He could see a light coming in from a window well in the basement, however, and Chang peered inside.

            Spreck was alone in the bare basement, and he lifted a hatch in the floor to reveal a ladder. As the dean began his descent, Chang measured what he should do.

            After a few short minutes of internal debate with his voices, Chang decided to send a short message to Abed.

 

>Chang: have you found anything BLUE?

 

            It was vague, but hopefully if they’d really cracked the majority of the file, there was _something_ about the phases of Subway’s plan. Meanwhile, if time was limited, then Chang had to act now.

            First he picked the lock on the door, then went to the basement and searched for the concealed hatch. Having found it, Chang took a deep breath, bracing himself, and slithered down after Spreck. The sub-basement hallway was completely dark, which kept him concealed from anyone else down there, but also meant he had to fumble his way along blindly.

            Ahead of him, Chang could hear Spreck muttering to himself. “Dump _me_ , will you? You pathetic, whimpering little man, no one dumps Stephen Spreck!”

            Chang rolled his eyes at how ridiculous this sounded, but now he could see a faint light up ahead, a door leading to somewhere more brightly lit.

            “Well,” Spreck ranted on. “We’ll see who has the last laugh about this, won’t we? You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Craig. I’ve got friends in high places, oh yes. You and your little school are going to rue the day you crossed me.”

            Reaching the door, Chang poked his head out. His eyes had to adjust to the sudden light, but as they did, he wished he’d kept them shut.

            Spreck was standing at the end of a long gangplank that extended out of the wall into the center of the room. He was rubbing his hand along the surface of the largest machine that Chang had ever seen in his life, a towering green-and-yellow monstrosity on four legs, with four arms, each of which was equipped with a cannon and what looked like missiles. Emblazoned along its side were the words: _CC, in partnership with SUBWAY: EAT FRESH!!_

            “And if I can’t have you, Craig,” Spreck hissed. “No one will!”

 

Troy was glad his time at the monastery was finished and that they would finally be back to travelling. The plan was to head along the coast of the Bay of Bengal until they reached Singapore. It was relatively safe waters, with a lot of interesting places to visit. For the night, though, they were staying at a hotel in Colombo with their translator, Tharindu

            As they reached the hotel lobby, Troy saw a large crowd gathered around the small TV in the wall. He peered over everyone’s heads and could see that there were images taken from helicopters of building damage and smoke.

            “What’s going on?” he asked Tharindu.

            He inquired with the other guests before relaying what he learned. “Some big event in America. Attack of some kind on a school.”

            It was stupid, but Troy had a sudden bad omen. “What school?”

            Tharindu checked. “A place called Green-tale?”

            Troy didn’t care whether it was rude, he plowed his way through the crowd, shoving everyone in front of him aside. As he reached the TV screen and saw what was happening, his jaw dropped and he fell to his knees.

            “Oh. My. God.”


	19. Instant Awesome, Just Add Mecha

Chang had waited until Spreck left to begin searching the underground storage facility for something, _anything_ that could be used against the robot. He didn’t know whether he’d ever have a chance to explore this place again. Meanwhile, his cell phone wasn’t getting any reception this far below ground, and he couldn’t share what he'd found until he was back on top.

            It took him all night to find something useful, hidden away in an adjacent room. He was so exhausted, Chang collapsed in a corner, promising himself he’d just close his eyes for a few minutes before heading back to tell everyone.

            He awoke several hours later to hear a thunderous sound coming from the main hall. Chang hurried back, only to find a portal opening in the roof, and the giant mecha ascending via a rising platform. He could see Spreck in the cockpit as it ascended past him, and Chang knew that his friends would find out what was going on soon enough without his warning.

            Returning to what he’d found that night, Chang felt churning fear in his stomach. He’d assumed this would only be a last resort, but now, it seemed, this was his only option.

            “I mustn’t run away, I mustn’t run away,” he repeated to himself, as he prepared to follow Spreck.

 

Looking back at it later, Jeff would find it funny, in a very dark way, how the biggest worry on his mind that Tuesday morning was meeting with the dean.

            He’d been more than worried, really. He was stressed. Anxious. Not quite panicky, but that was only because Annie and he had come up with some creative ways to get their minds off of it (if he got out of this with his job and dignity intact, he owed Britta a huge thank you for her advice on talking dirty). Now, coming in early before any students had classes, with only faculty around, Annie at his side… she gave his arm a squeeze and shone a warm smile at him, which made things better, but it didn’t make their trip to the dean’s office feel any less like a walk of shame.

            When they arrived, however, they found the dean in a cheery mood. He smiled at them and gestured to the seats in front of his desk. “Thank you so much for coming in this early. I just think we should get this out of the way as soon as possible.”

            Jeff gulped and glanced over at Annie. She was clearly doing her best to look encouraging, so he decided to speak first. “We probably should have approached you rather than wait for you to find out like that, but—”

            “I’ve made you uncomfortable, Jeffrey, haven’t I? Over the last few years?” The dean nodded with a sagely expression. “I really _do_ want to apologize for that. I’ve always liked you, Jeff, and you too, Annie, you’ve been a great helper on so many occasions. And if speeding up this process can make up for any of that, well gosh, let’s just get right to it!”

            Annie looked as stunned as Jeff felt. “You… are okay with us being a couple?”

            “Well, provided this little relationship only began _after_ you left Jeff’s class…?”

            “Absolutely,” she confirmed. “It started this semester.”

            “Good! That was my first question, actually.”

            Jeff heard a low, quiet _thud_ from somewhere behind him, and glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see someone knocking on the office door or window. Everything outside seemed normal. And then he heard it again: _thud_ , only this time a little louder.

            “So, moving on,” the dean continued, “I know this is personal, but for legal reasons I have to know if this is a sexual relationsh—”

            “Do either of you two hear that?” Jeff pointed in the direction of the thudding sound. It was continuing at a steady pace, gradually getting louder.

            “It’s probably some construction work,” the dean said dismissively with a wave of his hand.

            “That doesn’t sound like construction work,” he insisted. The noise was getting very loud now, and Annie’s brow had furrowed.

            “Jeff’s right, maybe we should go check—”

            The next set of noises made the room shake just slightly, a slight resonance in the floorboards. Now even the dean looked nervous, rising from his chair. Annie and Jeff followed suit, and all three had just begun to head for the door when the first explosion rocked the campus.

 

At nearly the exact same time, Rachel and Abed were finishing getting ready for school. Abed had crashed at her place the night before, after staying too late to want to ride his bike back home. He knew he’d be in for an earful from his father, who was suspicious that his son was hiding a girlfriend from him (which was kind of true, even if he and Rachel were platonic). Abed had just zipped his books into his backpack when Rachel got a message on her laptop.

            She opened it, and her eyes popped wide. “Abed, hurry, get over here.”

            “What is it?”

            “KrakenBot063 just finished the decryption. He said… ‘what the hell is this thing you sent me?’” Rachel opened the file, and her eyes, already saucers, now looked ready to fall out. “It’s the plans.”

            “Let me see.”

            Abed leaned over, looking at the massive image file full of structural details of precisely the kind of robot Rick had described to them.

            “We need to print these out,” he told her, but she was already in the process of doing just that.

            Abed began text messaging Jeff to tell Hickey that they’d be on their way when they heard the blast. They were on edge from seeing the plans, and so they both jumped nearly a foot off the ground.

            “Was that—”

            Abed held up a hand. In writing his message, he noticed he’d missed a text from Chang. “Rachel, do a quick search of all the decrypted files for the word ‘blue’.”

            A few seconds and some hasty reading later, Rachel said “Level Blue. The robot is transferred to a holding facility…outside of Greendale!”

            Abed tossed his backpack aside. The weight would just slow them down. “Grab those papers. We need to get to campus _immediately_.”

 

The first missile struck directly on the statue of Luis Guzman. No one was out in the quad, fortunately, but through the window, Hickey could see a crater where the image of the veteran actor had formerly stood. He could hear people beginning to shout and scream, but Hickey just frowned. He’d seen worse scenes during his service in Nicaragua. Everyone else on campus was just a wimp. But as he charged across the grounds towards the cafeteria, he caught sight of what had caused the explosion, and it made him stop in his tracks.

            Towering over every building campus save the dorm was a massive spherical machine perched atop four legs. Another four arms sprouted out on all sides, bristling with the barrels of what seemed to be missile launchers. Given the size of that crater, they were definitely surface-to-air level of firepower. He could see someone sitting in a cockpit at its summit, but from this far down he had no idea who. Hickey knew who they were working for, though, since the robot was emblazoned with the logos of Subway and City College.

            Well, damn. Nicaragua did not have _this_. All the more reason to get to safety.

            He’d reached the cafeteria when the second strike hit, probably North Hall, judging from the sound of it. The ground shook and Hickey had to stabilize himself. When things had settled, he dashed over to Shirley’s Sandwich Shop, preparing to break open the door.

            The store, however, was already unlocked, and when he entered, he found Shirley huddled under her counter, phone in hand.

            “Andre, listen to me, I know you didn’t believe what I said, but you hear that? That is a giant robotic death machine attacking our school, and I want you and the boys on the road to Denver right the hell now.” She hung up, and saw Hickey in the doorway. “Buzz, what in the Lord’s name are you doing here?”

            “I’m going to my bunker, what do you think I’m doing?”

            “Then go there! Stop messing around my store!”

            “My bunker is _under_ your store.”

            Shirley was stunned. “ _What?!?_ ”

            Hickey sighed. “Listen, you remember when all you psycho students burned Subway down after whatshisface’s funeral, the one for the guy who wasn’t really dead? Well, it let me get a good look at the structural design for this part of the school, and I determined it was the safest place to build my bunker. I spent all of Chang’s time in charge down there.”

            “Does it have room for two?”

            “Sure thing.”

            Shirley stood up, ready to join, when a third blast struck. That one had to have been the old library. “Hurry up and open it!” she shouted to him, their ears ringing.

            Just then Shirley’s phone rang. “Andre, you had better be on the highway right now!” she shouted as she answered it. Then she paused, listening. “Okay, I understand. Buzz and I are in the cafeteria, we’ll meet you there.”

            “Shirley, what are you doing? We can’t wait for anyone!”

            “That was Abed and Rachel!” she snapped, shaking her phone at him. “Jeff and Annie aren’t answering their calls, they knew I’d be here to open up the shop. They’re coming with plans for that _thing_ outside right now.”

            Hickey’s eyes narrowed. “All right. Those two better be praying it doesn’t decide to target the cafeteria next.”

 

When the administration building was hit, the missile didn’t just leave a hole or a crater; the entire building began collapsing. “It’s an old building, we’re not _strictly_ up to code,” the dean explained over the rumble of falling ceilings as he, Jeff, and Annie, raced outside. On his way, he stopped to search behind a counter in the main office.

            Annie grabbed his hand, “Come on, dean, whatever it is, our lives are more important!”

            “You go on ahead, Annie, there’s one thing I value more than my life.”

            Obviously she couldn’t leave him after he said that, and Jeff wasn’t about to leave her, so they both grabbed his arms and began to pull him along. He resisted, but finally found what he was looking for with a loud “AHA!” It was his megaphone. The dean then grabbed the PA system right nearby and tapped it to hear if it was still working.

            “Attention to everyone on campus, it appears we are under attack by a giant robot. Please begin evacuating the school in as orderly a manner as possible.”

            It wasn’t a bad idea, and actually rather noble that he was risking his life to help everyone else, but Annie and Jeff still yanked him away before he could continue on with apologies about this happening. They managed to sprint out ahead of the rapidly approaching wave of rubble, exiting onto the quad accompanied by a cloud of dust.

            Outside, Annie got a good view of the robot, and realized why Rick had always acted a little nuts. If _she’d_ seen something like this and couldn’t tell anyone, she’d have been institutionalized. The dean, meanwhile, was shouting evacuation directions into his megaphone.

            Annie looked up anxiously as the deathbot. “Jeff, I think we should help with the evacuating. There’s nothing we can do against that… thing.”

            “No kidding,” Jeff muttered, grabbing her arm and dragging her along to match the speed of his longer legs.

            Behind them, the dean had turned his attention to the giant robot. “Whoever you are in there, would you kindly stop attacking my school? We haven’t done anything that’s been proven in court to justify this!”

            “Oh really?” a cold voice sneered back from the robot. Apparently it came equipped with loudspeakers.

            “Is that…?” Annie started to ask, but the voice went on.

            “I have had it with you and your pitiful little school, Craig. The world will be a better place with it wiped off the map. There’s only room for one college in Greendale!”

            The dean stood in shocked silence as one of the massive arms turned and aimed towards the bookstore, which wouldn't open for several more hours. The ensuing explosion snapped him out of it.

            “Okay, what I’m hearing, Stephen, is that you feel hurt. I admit I may have ended things somewhat abruptly last night, but that’s no need to—”

            The robot began lumbering towards the dormitories, past North Hall and just south of the cafeteria.

            “No, Stephen, there are students there! They don’t deserve this!”

            “Hmm, you’re right,” Spreck replied, his voice echoing over the campus. “Merely _attending_ Greendale is punishment enough.” Below the robot’s feet, students were streaming out of the building in terror, carrying anything they could grab with them. “I’ll give you five minutes to have them off campus. After that, the destruction will continue.”

            The dean sighed in relief, but then shouted into his megaphone again, “See, Stephen, this sort of thing is a perfect example of why we were _never_ going to work out!”

 

On their way to campus, Rachel and Abed rode past holes in the pavement that marked the robot’s passing, as well as damaged cop cars it had swept away. She could hear ambulance sirens, but from the looks of things, Spreck had been careful enough that no one had been badly injured – yet.

            “Abed!” she shouted to her friend as they sped their bikes down the street. “Maybe we should wait for backup to arrive? The military will have to be coming soon.”

            “By then it might be too late!” he called back. “The fate of the school could depend on us.”

            As they rounded a corner to reach the final block before campus, Rachel could clearly see the robot, bigger than anything she could have imagined, even after seeing the plans. She had a sinking feeling that this would not end well for them. They dropped their bikes at the edge of campus, racing through a crowd of faculty and students headed in the opposite direction.

            “Abed, if we don’t make it out of this, I want you to know that being your friend has been awesome.”

            “Likewise. But by having said that, we are now guaranteed to survive.”

            That made her grin, and they plowed on towards the meeting point.

 

Britta and Rick had still been asleep when the attack began, and the low boom of first two explosions woke them up. Rick mumbled something about loud neighbors, and Britta left their bed groggily and padded over to her window. She peeked through the blinds. The pillar of smoke rising from the direction of Greendale, plus the strange silhouette walking through it was enough to make her immediately wide awake.

            “Rick!” She screamed. “Rick, wake up, something’s happening on campus!”

            “What?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he emerged from the bedroom.

            Britta’s answer was simply to open her blinds all the way, and it had the same rousing effect on Rick that it had had on her. “That’s it! That’s the thing I saw in Subway’s underground cavern!”

            “What should we do? Have Rachel and Abed finished decrypting the plans?” Even as she was speaking, Britta had gone to her email, preparing to contact them. Instead, she found that Rachel had sent the bundled files to everyone on the committee (save for Hickey, technophobe that he was) in a mass email. “Yes!” she crowed. “They finished it!”

            “Good. Now send it to the local news channel.”

            “The media? Rick, they’ll just distort everything we found—”

            “Eventually, yes. But in the meantime, people need to know what’s going on. If we want to get the truth out before the corporate machine hijacks the story, we need to move quickly.”

            Britta was skeptical, but she forwarded the file to the tip line for the 5 o’clock news with the subject line “attack on Greendale: everything you need to know.”

            Rick, meanwhile, was changing into clothes as fast as he could, finally pulling on his coat.

            “Where are you going?”

            “The media, law enforcement, they’re all going to be there, they’ll need an eyewitness to corroborate what you just sent them.”

            “I’m coming with you,” said Britta, as she started to head back to their room for a change of clothes.

            “No, you have to stay here, it’s too dangerous out there right now.”

            “Rick, the hell? I don’t need to be protected like some damsel in distress.”

            His face flushed, somewhat ashamed. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that _I’m_ the one who got you involved in this, and I want to keep you safe. This was my mission, you don’t have to play a part in it just to be with me.”

            “It may have started as your mission, but it’s become mine too. We’re in this together, remember? Besides, I have _friends_ on campus. Jeff and Duncan will already be there, probably Shirley too, I have to know if they’re all right.”

            Rick hesitated, his concern for her apparent on every inch of his face. Eventually, however, he simply sighed. “You’re right, of course. We’re in this together. Hurry up and get ready, we’ll need to run.”

            Once they were both out of the apartment, that was exactly what they did, since Britta didn’t have a car. Her apartment was a fair distance from campus, but the adrenaline kept them from slowing the entire way.

 

Shirley could see Abed and Rachel coming towards the cafeteria. Abed’s face was intense, probably fully invested in some action superhero role. Rachel was clutching a bundle of papers to her chest. She opened a side door for them and gestured frantically for them to come in.

            The four of them gathered in the sandwich shop as Rachel began spreading out the pages of plans. “Professor Hickey, you know the most about military equipment, does any of this make sense to you?”

            The old man read through them intently, finger tracing over lines of text that he skimmed, focusing on the images themselves. “Looks like all four legs are needed to move that thing right. And while Spreck controls all four arms, he can only use two at a time at their full functionality.”

            “Is that a weakness?” Shirley asked.

            “Maybe.” Hickey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “The joints at the arms are left exposed whenever they’re raised to fire a missile. If we could damage them at just the right moment, we might be able to take at least one arm down.”

            “Any ideas of how to do that? Should we rig up a catapult out of chairs and bedding?”

            “This isn’t one of your silly make-believe games, Abed,” Hickey growled at him. “You and your not-a-girlfriend need to get out of here, you’ll just be in the way.”

            “What about Shirley?” Rachel protested.

            “Her I need.”

            “ _Me_!? What can I do?”

            “It’s gonna take two people to carry out my plan, and you’re the one I trust.” He glared at the two younger students. “Now, _get out of here_.”

            Abed looked as though he wanted to argue, but then they heard Spreck’s booming voice once again. “Time’s up! Prepare to watch your school be rendered into the rubble heap it already metaphorically was!”

            “All right,” he said, nodding to Rachel. “We’ll get out of your way. If you need us, Shirley, you know my number.”

            Once they were gone, Shirley turned back to Hickey. “I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I as sure as hell do not want to die here.”

            “Help me get my bunker open and I’ll show you.”

            Together they lifted open a concealed hatch that Shirley had barely noticed before. She’d assumed it was an access to the basement, but Hickey had sealed it off to be a narrow tunnel straight down, dug past the basement about ten feet. Once they’d climbed the rungs down to the bottom, Hickey hit a switch and the bunker was illumined by a single fluorescent bulb.

            It wasn’t large, with only one cot, one large shelf packed with packaged food, and another shelf that Hickey turned his attention to now. Shirley couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

            “What is that thing?” she gasped as Hickey began to slide it towards the edge of the shelf.

            “Handheld rocket launcher,” he replied, as if it should be obvious.

            “How can you possibly own one of those?”

            “This country’s got some of the loosest weapons restrictions in the world, and I know every loophole. Now, if you could help me, I need you to carry this while I get the ammo.” He dumped it into her arms, ignoring the shock on her face.

 

Spreck didn’t fire a rocket at the dorms; he merely swung one arm through it, the subpar structure crumbling in its wake. Pelton wanted to cry a little. Everything he’d built was falling apart around him, literally, and try as he could to stay inwardly positive, he had no idea how Greendale would ever rebuild.

            Oh, also, people were in danger, that too. But Greendale was his baby, and Spreck was killing it and that was all he could process right now.

            As debris from the dormitory showered down over the west end of campus, Pelton shouted into his megaphone once more in a futile attempt to get his ex to stop. “Stephen, please, come down out of the evil death machine and we can talk about this like adults!”

            “This was inevitable, Craig!” Spreck replied. “I agreed to cooperate with Subway, letting them use the facilities we’d built in the caves under Greendale, on the sole condition that they would let me test it out here. Apparently they aren’t fans either.”

            “You were planning on destroying Greendale this whole time?!” The dean gasped. “I trusted you, Stephen!”

            “It was supposed to be this summer.” Spreck’s voice sounded less arrogant now. “You…you weren’t supposed to be here. But!” and his loudspeakers crackled at his sudden increase in volume. “This is what you deserve for making a fool out of me, Craig!”

            With that, Spreck raised a robotic arm, aiming the cannon barrel straight at Pelton. His life began passing before his eyes (so many outfits, so many dances, so many bad life choices), but then he noticed a strange pair of figures climbing along the roof of the cafeteria. He peered at them, and could barely make out that they were a man and a woman, one white, the other black, not that race mattered, he reminded himself. They were carrying…something. Whatever it was, the woman had it hoisted on her shoulder. She knelt down, the man put something in it, and—

            His jaw dropped as a rocket launched from the roof, straight at the joint under the arm of the robot that was aimed at him. It exploded, knocking the machine off-kilter. The arm, meanwhile, was nearly severed from the body of the robot, and when its legs readjusted to right itself, it fell completely off, landing in the Star-Burns Memorial Garden, which they’d been meaning to get rid of anyway.

            Now Pelton _really_ had no idea what was going. Spreck, however, responded immediately. The cockpit turned as he faced them. “You! I remember you! You’re that housewife who took over from Subway and defeated so many of my men in paintball. I’ve always wanted to make you pay!”

            There was no missile this time. Spreck merely raised an arm, ready to smash into the roof on top of Shirley and Hickey.

            In all the noise of collapsing buildings and exploding rockets, of sirens and screaming crowds, none of them had noticed a new sound enter the mix. And so it was that when Spreck swung the arm down, it was caught in midair.

            Everyone – and that was everyone, students, faculty, assembled law enforcement, the media – gaped at the sight of the new arrival.

            It was smaller than the robot Spreck drove, and squatter. Overall it more closely resembled a spider than the more upright, humanoid machine, and likewise it looked less practical, with a cockpit perched in front within the spider’s “head.” But one of its eight limbs had reached out to grab Spreck, stopping its arc of destruction.

            “What?!” Spreck screeched. “Another robot? Impossible! Subway only manufactured one model, and I’m riding in it!”

            “Oh yeah?” and it was the voice of Ben Chang that resonated from the second robot’s speakers. “Well, looks like _you_ forgot about the prototype!”


	20. Upgrade vs Prototype Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listened to this on loop while writing this chapter, so I’m makin’ this a song fic: http://tinyurl.com/kvf2n67

It had taken Chang longer than he expected to figure out how to even turn on the S.P.I.D.E.R prototype, much less pilot it. It wasn’t exactly the same as the model he’d seen Spreck looking at over a year ago. The solar-powered part had been rejected, obviously, as had the thorax-abdomen design in favor of a more compact body. Inside the head there was a panel of buttons and levers that were, of course, unclearly marked, and even now, several hours later, Chang still didn’t know what half of them were for. It seemed that the only people who were instantly able to pilot giant robots without any training were Japanese teenagers.

            And from what he could tell, none of the cannons or guns were armed.

            But he could still grapple with the arms, and that was what he was doing now, straining on one of the levers to hold Spreck in place. He could see the dean’s face contorting in rage. It was the most beautiful sight Chang had ever seen in his life.

            “You filth!” Spreck was shrieking. “How _dare_ you sell me out!”

            “I was never working for you in the first place!” he shouted back. “I may not be best friends in the world with these guys or anything, but they’ve been a hell of a lot nicer to me than you were, jerk-face.” Chang had found a small headset in the cockpit, which he was now wearing. It let him be heard on the speakers, and the computerized voice gave him status updates through the earpiece.

            “Warning!” it was telling him now. “Right leg 2 in danger of breaking.”

            _Crap_ , he thought. With one last burst of power he pushed Spreck back and got the satisfaction of forcing the robot to realign itself before he let go. Chang then clumsily maneuvered his robot in between Spreck and the cafeteria.

            “This school is not worth defending, Benjamin. City College can offer you so much more!”

            “Right, ’cause you are _so_ going to still be dean there after this winds up on the national news.”

            That caused Spreck some hesitation. Apparently he really _had_ been too enraged to think straight. Chang took advantage of the pause to barrel his whole robot straight at Spreck’s, aiming for the side without an arm, and driving him backwards into the football field. The mix of dirt and turf flew up in a great arc as Spreck dug in his heels and halted Chang’s advance.

            “City College is just one small part of this!” Spreck replied back. From his position shoving the robot, Chang’s cockpit was only about twenty feet from Spreck’s, and he could see that he had him sweating. “All right, yes, Subway’s plans weren’t supposed to happen for a few more months, but we’re just moving up the schedule. This is the start of a new world order – a new world _sandwich_ order!”

            Spreck swiveled the body of his robot so that his remaining arms were aimed at Chang. He gulped as he realized the deranged dean was preparing to fire.

 

From below, Jeff was watching in absolute amazement at the spectacle that was going on across Greendale’s campus. When the guns on Spreck’s arms fired, he and the rest of the crowd flinched. There was a shower of sparks, but when the smoke cleared, Chang’s robot was only singed and dented, not destroyed. Better still, from the way the parts were shifting on its arms without any effect, it looked as though Spreck’s robot might be running low on ammunition. A roar went up from those gathered.

            Jeff felt a little bit of satisfaction in knowing that at least _he’d_ always believed in Chang. But he still knew that the entire group owed him an enormous apology for underestimating him. This was the most unexpected display of heroics since Pierce had won paintball for them.

            As he was gaping, Jeff saw Britt and Rick arrive at the edge of campus and both drop down, hands to their knees, gasping for breath. Had they really _run_ all the way from Britta’s apartment? He strode over to them. “So I guess you know what’s going on.”

            They both nodded. “Where’s…” Rick panted, “whoever’s… in charge?”

            Jeff pointed to the line of cops trying to hold the crowds back and after a few more gasps, Rick limped in that direction.

            “What’s the damage so far?” Britta asked once she’d regained her breath.

            “Dorm and administration building are completely gone,” he told her. “A bunch of other buildings are damaged. Annie’s over there helping with the injured, in case you want to lend a hand.”

            “Annie? What’s she doing here this early?”

            “Well, uh, we were having a meeting with the dean.” Jeff pointedly did not look her in the eye. “He _may_ have caught us making out in the library yesterday…”

            Britta just chuckled bleakly. “Well, I think he’s got other things on his mind right now.”

            The two robots were continuing to grapple on the football field, and Chang was losing ground. He had more arms than Spreck, but the smaller size of the prototype worked against him. He was getting dangerously close to the cafeteria, and Jeff hoped that Shirley and Hickey had had the sense to get out of their way.

            “How bad are the injuries?”

            “Gashes, broken bones, inhaled debris, but nothing life-threatening so far. The staff’s still taking account to see if anyone’s missing.”

            Britta looked around, examining the faces that were crowded on the street a fair distance from the robot struggle. “Where’s Duncan?”

            “Ian?” Jeff had been so preoccupied that he’d forgotten his friend was probably already on campus. “Um…I haven’t seen him.”

            Britta’s face went pale. “Who’s been checking off names?”

            “Whitman, I think.” He’d barely said the name when Britta began sprinting towards him. How she could still do that after the distance she’d already run, Jeff had no idea.

            By the time he caught up with her, she’d apparently already gotten the news. “Jeff, he hasn’t reported in.” Britta looked genuinely distressed. She was staring at the Social Sciences building. From here he could tell it had suffered some damage, though to which sections wasn’t clear.

            “Maybe he didn’t come to campus today. If he fell off the wagon again, he could just be running late.”

            Britta wasn’t listening to him, though. She’d pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and hit a number. One number.

            “You have Ian on _speed dial_?!”

            “Don’t act jealous. Most of my friends are on my speed dial. He’s eight, you’re two.”

            “Only two? Who’s number one?”

            “Troy’s old number.” Britta frowned. “He’s not picking up.”

            “He might still be at home. Or driving…” Jeff knew his own excuses sounded pathetic. He was growing as worried as Britta.

            “I’m starting to think Abed had the right idea putting trackers in his friends, even if he should have gotten our consent first…” Britta hung up her phone. “Someone has to go look for him.”

            “Oh great plan, let's walk into an active war zone for someone who might not even be there.”

            “Social science is all the way on the other side from where the robots are, Jeff. I have to go now, before they get closer.”

            “Wait, what’s this ‘I’ business? I’m better friends with Duncan than you are, if you're going, then I’m coming with you.”

            “You’re okay with leaving Annie alone?”

            Jeff looked over his shoulder. He could just see her through the throngs, handing out first aid. “She’s… she’ll be okay. If I tell her, she’ll want to come along, and…and she’s more needed here.” _And I’m not risking her life if I don’t have to_.

            Britta must have sensed his unspoken motivation, because she gave him a soft smile. “Damn, Jeff, you are so in love with her, it is _hilarious_.”

            “Yeah, real amusing, Britta. Now let’s get going before those machines decide to change direction.”

 

Abed watched the clash of titans going on in front of him, analyzing the situation, and observing how much more interesting it was than the actual _Clash of the Titans_. “Chang’s going to lose at this rate,” he concluded. “Do we have any word on the military’s ETA.”

            “I could ask,” Rachel offered. “But I doubt they’d tell us.”

            Abed’s brow furrowed. “Let’s come up with Plan B in the meantime. Do you still have those plans?”

            Rachel spread them out on the grass. They were at the edge of the crowd, where people were spread thin, though still swarming around. The police had their hands full maintaining order, and no one else had made any attempt to attack Spreck.

            The plans were complicated, but Abed had a quick mind for things like this. “Hickey said the legs were a weakness. He needs all four of them. If we take out one, he’d be immobilized.”

            Just then, Chang’s grip slipped on the other robot, and the prototype was sent sprawling back, crashing into the side of the cafeteria. Rachel winced. “I wonder if Shirley and Hickey got to safety in time.”

            Abed had looked up to watch Chang’s fall, but quickly returned to the plans. He didn’t have time to be emotional, and had decided to settle into the role of a stoic commander. Given the circumstances, Stacker Pentecost felt appropriate. “It seems as though Chang doesn’t have any ammunition.” His eyes raced over the pages until they were caught by a promising detail. “Here. Look at this.”

            Rachel leaned over his shoulder. “Grappling hooks?”

            “Spreck designed these robots after spiders. The upgrade is less arachnid than the prototype, more practically designed, but it still has grappling hooks attached to high-tensile cables that can be shot out like a spider’s thread. It’s possible Chang’s robot has the same feature.”

            “How do we let him know?”

            Abed decided to try the obvious first. He dialed Chang’s cell phone. After a few rings, Chang’s voice answered, screaming, “A LITTLE BUSY RIGHT NOW!!!” before hanging up.

            Chang’s robot was struggling to stand again, and Spreck’s was stalking towards it, arms raised and ready to deliver a pummeling to the prone prototype. After its legs flailed, trying to find a way to stand, Chang ingeniously opted to push down with all his legs on one side, rolling the robot out of Spreck’s reach and off the cafeteria. The arms of the other robot came crashing down at the spot where he’d been just second before.

            Rachel snapped her fingers. “We need a distraction! Something to keep Spreck occupied long enough for Chang to listen to our idea.”

            “Right.” Abed thought hard before dialing Shirley’s number. “Let’s see if Hickey has any of those rockets left.”

            As he waited for her to pick up, Chang’s robot managed to scuttle away, rounding around the cafeteria and returning to the cratered quad. Spreck followed behind. What the prototype lacked in strength and firepower it made up for slightly in speed. The upgrade lumbered after in comparison. They resumed their battle in the center of campus.

            “Abed!?” Shirley’s voice pulled his attention away from the fight.

            “Where are you and Hickey?”

            “Between North Hall and the Life Sciences building. We can’t get to the bunker after the damage those two monsters just caused.”

            “Good. That’s not far. We’ll meet you there, and tell Hickey to get that rocket launcher ready.”

            No sooner had he hung up then Chang lost ground again, and, arms locked together, the robots plunged through the Social Sciences Building to the parking lot beyond. Abed barely gave it a glance as he and Rachel headed out, but he hoped no one had been inside when they hit.

 

Britta and Jeff’s footsteps echoed down the empty halls of the Social Science building as they walked quickly towards Duncan’s office. As Britta rounded the last corner, she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that she felt Jeff run into her from behind.

            The hallway immediately in front of his office had collapsed in, to the point that they could see sunlight streaming in from above. Britta couldn’t tell if the damage extended back into Duncan’s office, but she felt her chest tighten as she imagined the worst. She ran ahead, leaving Jeff behind, and began clambering over the rubble towards where his door was barely visible.

            “Duncan!” she shouted. “If you’re there, say something?”

            There was a long, horrible silence until she finally heard his voice, muffled behind fallen rooftop and slightly slurred. “Britta? Izzachoo?”

            “Are you _drunk_?” Jeff asked, climbing up behind Britta.

            “Fcourse not, prat. I think I’vadda concussion.”

            “We’ll get you out!” Britt called, relieved to know he was still alive. She began looking around the debris, trying to see how to reach the door. “Jeff, can you lift this section?”

            “I can try,” he replied, and got up under what had formerly been a ceiling support bar. She could see his muscles strain as he braced himself and pushed against it. The bar began to slowly move, proving that Jeff’s physique was useful for more things than just eye candy. As he started to set it down, carefully, so as not to cause any further cave-ins, Britta slipped down into the space he’d opened up and found the door handle. The bottom half was still blocked, but fortunately Duncan’s door swung inward, and she was able, barely, to open it and climb inside.

            She discovered that most of the ceiling panels had fallen down, and looking at Duncan, who was huddled by his desk holding a bunched up handkerchief against his head, one of them must have hit him. There was a small bloom of red in the cloth, and Britta raced to his side. “How bad is it?”

            “Not sure,” he admitted. “I blacked out ferwhile. Saw you tried to call me.” His eyes were unfocused, and when he tried to stand up, he immediately fainted away again.

            “Duncan! Stay awake, come on, we need to keep you conscious until we get you help.” He wasn’t responding, so she tried slapping him across the face. “Duncan!” No luck. “Jeff, I can’t get him to wake up, what should I do?”

            “Not a doctor, Britta,” Jeff had finished clearing the rubble, and he was leaning through the door, hand outstretched. “Just drag him over here and we’ll carry him out.”

            Then they heard the sound, the fall of gigantic footsteps. Britta and Jeff’s eyes widened as they realized what was coming. They didn’t have a chance to react before the two robots barreled through the building, not right over them but close enough that parts of their area began collapsing again. Jeff barely had time to dive into the office before everything came falling down around them.

            Britta closed her eyes, clutching Duncan to her, sure that this was the end. But then the sound of the robots faded as they moved away, and she opened her eyes to see that the three of them were now trapped in the office, the walls having fallen down against each to create a sort of chamber. It was dark, the only light seeming to come from somewhere behind where Duncan’s desk had stood. She could hear them strain under the weight of the second story weighing down above them.

            “Oh God,” she heard Jeff mutter. “We’re trapped. I…I haven’t spoken to my mom since Christmas. I…oh _God_ , I didn’t say goodbye to Annie…”

            “Calm down,” Britta said, though her nerves were equally as frayed. Was Rick all right? Had she told him the correct schedule to feed Noam and Chomsky? “We’ll think of something.”

            Britta set Duncan down gently and began crawling on her hands and knees towards the patch of gray. She squeezed down and saw that, as they collapsed, the walls had left a small gap, through which she could see daylight outside.

            “Okay, Jeff, can you come over here?” She heard a scuffle, and Jeff crawled over to her side. He’d snapped out of his panic, which was reassuring. “Is there anything you can move to make that just a little bit wider? I think me and Duncan can fit through if it’s just a smidge bigger.”

            Jeff peered around. “We’ve got two stories of building on us, Britta, I don’t know…” he let that trail off as he noticed something. “Okay, I _think_ I might be able to remove that block there,” he pointed, “and hold it up long enough for you two to get outside. If you can find something on the outside to prop it, I could follow after you.”

            “Are you sure?”

            “No, but from the sound of it, if we wait around here much longer, we’re going to be three human pancakes anyway.” He was trying to be cool, but Britta could tell from the slight shake in his voice that Jeff was still rattled being this close to his own demise.

            The plan was good, but they weren’t going to get anything done with one of them unconscious, and she returned to Duncan’s, patting his face and jostling his shoulder. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

            He remained completely limp. Britta’s heart leapt to her throat, and she felt for a pulse. It was shallow. She touched his hairline and his cut was still seeping. “Oh no.” She began shaking him harder. “No, Ian, you do _not_ get to die right now, I was just starting to really like you!”

            At last, when she’d almost given up hope, he stirred, blearily opening his eyes. “Britta…?”

            “We’ve found a way out. Can you follow me?”

            Duncan nodded, and Britta helped him up to a crawling position. Jeff moved into place, pushing a block out of the way and pressing his shoulder into the gap it created. She heard the building shift ominously, and saw Jeff grit his teeth and strain against the weight. “Hurry!” he gasped.

            Britta let Duncan go through first, then followed after. The daylight was blinding, but she managed to squint and see another piece of rubble on the grass not far ahead. “Help me move this,” she signaled to Duncan.

            He didn’t attempt standing this time, instead crawling to keep his head down. Together they rolled the block of concrete towards the opening where Jeff was gradually losing a battle against gravity. With his help, Britta braced the block under the gap.

            Jeff began to shimmy through the hole, but then, to their horror, the blocks behind him cracked and the whole room started to fall in. Britta grabbed one of his arms, and Duncan the other, and together they pulled as hard as they could, dragging Jeff out into the open a split second before his legs would have been crushed.

            The three of them lay panting on the mulch outside what had once been Duncan office for a moment before the nearby sounds of the battling robots brought them back to their senses. Jeff and Britta stood, and together they lifted Duncan to his feet. Propping him up between them, the three began to walk back to the first aid area as quickly as Duncan’s condition allowed.

            “Britta,” he mumbled to her, a slightly loopy smile on his injured face, “you _do_ know you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever had the fantastic opportunity to meet, correct?”

            She almost laughed out loud. “Tell me again when it's not just your bruised brain talking, okay, Ian?" She saw Jeff give her a funny look, but for the life of her Britta had no idea why.

 

Chang was failing, just like he’d failed in his band, failed teaching Spanish, failed in his marriage…or at least, that was the litany that Spreck was screaming at him as he hammered the prototype with his robotic fists.

            “You could never choose the winning side, could you, Benjamin? You’re nothing but a pawn, a future peon in the Subway Empire!”

            “Okay, seriously, dude, pull back on the supervillain routine, all right? We get it, you’re evil.” Chang had two of his robot’s arms up in from of the cockpit, shielding him from any direct hits. Meanwhile, he was searching buttons frantically, hoping for something, anything, that might give him some advantage. Every time he hit one, the little voice in his ear would tell him something like “Are you sure you want to vent your coolant?” or “Missiles depleted.” Stupid machine! Why couldn’t it come with a user’s manual?

            His phone was ringing again, but Chang ignored it. He’d finally come up with an idea. Using one of his free front-positioned legs, he grabbed a piece of rubble from the ground below him and flung it at the cockpit of Spreck’s robot with all the pneumatic force the machine could muster. Spreck stopped pounding him to raise his arms and block the concrete block, which bounced off harmlessly. The break in the pummeling, however, gave Chang the chance to drive his robot forward again, aiming low on the upgrade model and throwing it back again.

            Its four legs quickly adjusted, however, and Spreck remained upright. Chang cursed under his breath. This was a war of attrition. Before long, his smaller robot was bound to lose.

            Just then, he saw four small figures running across the lawn. Using a binocular feature on his viewing screen, Chang zoomed in and saw that it was Abed, Rachel, Shirley, and Hickey. He freaked, envisioning them squished underfoot. “Guys, get away—” he began to yell into his speaker, but then he saw Shirley shoulder the rocket launcher again, and once Hickey had reloaded, she fired it straight at Spreck. It couldn’t pierce the hull of the robot’s body, but it did throw it off balance, and Chang saw the cockpit turn in their direction.

            “Pick on someone your own size!” he yelled, but then his phone rang a third time. In his display, he saw Abed was on his cell, and Hickey and Shirley were hastily preparing another round. He decided to find out what the heck was going on. “Hello?”

            “Chang, do you see any buttons with a web pattern on them?”

            He was baffled, but looked anyway, finally finding a small one amongst the various firing mechanisms. “Yeah, I’ve got one.”

            “Try it. And aim for the legs.”

            Chang wanted to ask further questions, but Shirley had fired again, briefly pausing Spreck’s move in their direction. The four of them immediately took flight as the dean decided to take care of them first.

            Without any options left, he hit the web button. The computer immediately brought up a display on his screen with the cheery words, “Grappling hooks activated!”

            “I have _grappling hooks_? WICKED!” A small joystick began to blink, and he grabbed it, aiming the crosshairs on the display towards the nearest legs of the upgrade. After a second of blinking, the crosshairs remained static, pinned to the legs.

            “Target locked. Fire when ready.”

            “Don’t know if this will work,” he muttered, “but I've gotta take the Changce." He jammed the top button on the joystick, and two grappling hooks were launched from just below the cockpit. They streaked out through the air, trailing long metallic cables, before making contact with one leg each, wrapping around them multiple times. Chang felt his robot lurch as Spreck struggled against the lines connecting them, but he just grabbed the controls and dug in further, ignoring the warning klaxons blaring in his earpiece.

            The upgrade tried to shake free, but the hooks held on tight. For a moment they were caught together, suspended. Then Chang pulled the same roll he’d done before at the cafeteria, and the lines tangled, throwing Spreck off balance. Unable to right itself, the other robot swayed ominously.

            Lying sideways in the cockpit, Chang watched in glee as the robot pitched to one side with a groan of metal and fell, thunderously, to the ground.

 

In a hotel lobby in Colombo, the crowd that had gathered around the TV erupted into cheers and applause. Troy was jumping up and down, hugging LeVar, Tharindu, and total strangers, he no longer cared.

            “That. Was. AWESOME!!”

            “I hate to break it to you, Troy,” LeVar said with a joyful grin, “but I think your friends are the ones they’re going to be making a movie about.”

            “Who needs a movie, just play that footage! My school is full of badasses, man!”

            The celebration at the hotel lasted through the rest of the night, and everybody was eating and drinking, and Troy tried this thing called arrack that was made out of coconuts only nobody told him it had alcohol and he actually got wasted for the first time in his life. Music got going and he freestyle rapped about Greendale and robots. Random Sri Lankan girls kept giving him kisses, there may have been a guy or two in there, but when Troy was honest he didn’t really care.

            It was one thing to know your friends were amazing. It was another to have everyone on the planet know it too. Best. Night. Ever.


	21. Defeat Equals Friendship

Spreck’s cockpit ejected him out onto the ground in a cushion of airbags. He didn’t have a chance to unbuckle himself from the seat before law enforcement and media surrounded the crashed machine, and he was dragged out and promptly cuffed. Police ringed him, as much to keep the crowd from attacking him as to keep him from fleeing.

            One figure came pushing through the throng, shouting through a megaphone. “Stephen! Stephen! Please, officers, let me have a word!”

            Spreck was scowling when Pelton broke through close enough to see him. It wasn’t all anger, though. Pelton could tell he was humiliated. As well he should be, really, behaving the way he had.

            Pelton dropped his megaphone and cleared his throat. “Um, could we have a word in private?”

            “I’m sorry, but he’s under arrest—”

            “Fine, but can we keep the cameras away…?”

            The police agreed to that and let him inside the circle around Spreck. “What do _you_ want?” the other dean sneered.

            “To apologize. I didn’t know that dumping you would hurt you so much.”

            “This had _nothing_ to do with you!”

            “Oh really? Hmm, funny how you decided to move your attack up by several months _the day after_ we broke up? And I think you said something about me making a fool out of you…?”

            He could see Spreck’s face darken as he flushed. “That…that was about the space simulator, and the paintball, and the chess…”

            “Stephen,” Pelton said consolingly. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you have _feelings_. It’s what makes us better than horrible people like the Subway executives who came up with this whole plan.”

            “I’m not…” Spreck muttered something unintelligible that apparently wasn’t convincing even to him.

            “I hurt your pride, and you’re a very proud man, with a lot to be proud of. And you threw it all away for, I don’t know, what did Subway offer you?”

            “If you must know,” Spreck sniffed disdainfully, “City College was going to be the new Harvard of the Subway Empire, with full funding, the best school in the country. We’re not so different, Craig, you and I. We would both do anything for our schools.”

            “Oh baloney!”

            Everyone turned to see the new arrival. She was a middle-aged woman, possibly of Hispanic origin, but race didn’t matter of course. Especially not when she had precisely the kind of handsome features that occasionally made Pelton swing both ways.

            “If you cared about our school,” she snapped at Spreck through the line of police, “you would never have pulled this stupid stunt in the first place! I want it known,” she told the gathered reporters, “that I knew _nothing_ about Dean Spreck’s arrangement with Subway until I heard it on this morning’s news! City College is _not_ responsible for the destruction caused here today.”

            “I’m sorry, ma’am,” said one of the reporters, “but you are…?”

            “Clarisa Caro, vice-dean of City College and director of public relations.” That explained the way she carried herself well in front of cameras. She extended a hand to Pelton. “I want to offer my apologies for what happened today.”

            Pelton gave her a sideways glance. “I’m sorry, but you expect us to believe you _really_ didn’t know what was going on?”

            “I would never have approved of this nonsense. We’re a community college. We serve the community, we shouldn’t have national ambitions.”

            That was music to Pelton’s ears, and he smiled as he reached out to take her hand. “I accept your apology, on one condition. My students still have two months left in their semester. Would City College be willing to host them, given the, er, state of our campus?”

            There was a slight tick in the corner of Ms. Caro’s eye as she undoubtedly imagined the difficulty of almost doubling their campus population. But the public relations boon was too great to pass up. “Of course, Dean Pelton. It’s the least we could do. May this be the start of a new cooperation between our schools!”

            They both smiled broadly at the cameras as they flashed. This would look very good on the front page of the paper the next day.

            Their moment in the spotlight was interrupted, however, when Chang’s cockpit door slid open, and he stumbled out onto the lawn. The media immediately forgot about the villain of the story and streamed en masse to where the hero had just emerged. As Chang was swarmed by reporters, the police unable to get to him first, Pelton hissed in Caro’s ear, “If I find out you _did_ know about this…”

            “I really didn’t. Spreck never tells me anything. But I am glad to finally have a shot at his office. What would you think about being _my_ vice-dean? Merging our two schools? This city was never really big enough to properly support two community colleges.”

            “You mean make it Greendale City Community College?”

            “Well, I was thinking we’d keep our name—”

            “Hmm, I wonder what the media will think of that.”

            She gritted her teeth to keep smiling. “Fine. We’ll talk details later.”

 

Hickey and Shirley had fled away from the gathering authorities as quickly as possible, but they were still spotted before they could hide the rocket launcher.

            “Excuse me, sir! Ma’am! What do you have there?” A heavily bearded officer approached them with a stern expression on his face, but as he got near, it vanished, replaced by a look of surprise. “Wait – Jesus Christ, is that _you_? Buzz Hickey?”

            Hickey was equally as shocked. “Gary Osborne? My God, the last time I saw you, you barely had peachfuzz! Look at you now!”

            The cop clapped him in a bear hug before pulling back to shake his head in amazement. “Where’ve you been since they kicked you off the force?”

            “Teaching Criminology. I’m thinking this might be the sign to take some early retirement…”

            Osborne laughed. “So it was _you_ launching those attacks on the robot? I might’ve known – Buzz Hickey never did like following protocol.”

            “So, you’ll let this slide for old time’s sake, right?” he asked, jabbing a thumb at the rocket launcher Shirley was trying to hide behind her back.

            The officer scowled thoughtfully. “Tell you what. You let me confiscate it, and the permanent record will show that the robot was attacked by ‘unidentified persons’. How does that sound?”

            Hickey was loath to give up his launcher after the pain it had been to acquire it in the first place, but then he thought about the legal mess he’d drag Shirley through as his accomplice. Her kids didn’t deserve that. “All right. It’s a deal.” They shook, and she gave him the launcher. Hickey did a quick wipe down for prints and handed it over to the officer. “Your word that our names stay out of this?”

            “My word. I have a feeling no one’s going to give a damn anyway. You saved all our lives.”

            “Nah, that was Chang. Let him get the glory for once.”

            When Osborne was a fair distance away, Shirley sighed heavily. “It’s hard to believe we just spent six months trying to fix this place. Now look at it.”

            Hickey shrugged. “Come on, Shirley. To get this place up to code, we were going to have to destroy some of it anyway.”

            She frowned a moment before nodding in agreement. “You really going to retire?”

            “I was never crazy about this job, and I don’t think I’ve got it in me to adjust to a new school. Besides, it’ll give me more time to work on my comic.”

            He’d shown Shirley some of his strips. “Or maybe you could work on your memoirs instead,” she suggested. “Just, uh, leave out the part where we used an illegal weapon to bring down a robot, okay?”

 

Annie was just finishing up splinting Leonard’s leg (he ungratefully blew a raspberry at her as the EMTs wheeled him away) when she saw Jeff and Britta bring Duncan back. She gasped in horror at how beat-up and filthy they looked, abandoning her post and running to the trio. “Oh my God, Jeff, where have you _been_?”

            “Sorry, Annie, duty called. I had to rescue an old friend.” He and Britta passed Duncan over to a pair of EMTs, but while Jeff stayed with Annie, Britta followed after Duncan.

            “You should have told me!”

            “And then you’d have tagged along, and I think having an extra person would have doomed us. I’ll tell you the whole story later.” Jeff dropped to the ground, sitting on the grass and rubbing his shoulder with a grimace.

            “Are you all right?” Annie sat next to him and pulled his shirt collar down to see an ugly bruise forming. “What did you _do_?”

            “Kept a building from falling down and killing us.” When Annie’s eyes widened, he shrugged. “Like I said, whole story later.”

            “Let me get you a cold pack,” Annie said, quickly dashing to the first aid supplies to retrieve one. When she came back and placed it on his aching shoulder, she muttered “I wouldn’t have ‘tagged along,’ Jeff, I’m not some puppy. I had responsibilities here.”

            “I didn’t want to worry you.”

            “But what if something _worse_ had happened? What if you’d been killed?”

            “Then…” Jeff took a deep breath. “Okay, being trapped under that rubble made me think about things. Like what would happen if I was hospitalized or…” another deep breath, “if I died. The first person they’d contact would be my family. My mom I barely talk to, my dad I don’t _want_ to talk to. Nobody would realize that it’s everyone in Greendale who means the most to me. I don’t want them to call my family first. I…want them to call _you_.”

            “Me? Really? I would think you’d want them to call Abed.”

            Jeff looked surprised. “Abed? Why Abed?”

            “Well, he’s the best at gathering us all together, so it would make sense, right?”

            “Okay, no insult to Abed, he is impressively resourceful, but I’d rather have _your_ face be the first thing I see when I wake up in a hospital.”

            That made Annie’s inner romantic squeal in delight. “Aw!”

            “After all, you’re way hotter than him, so…”

            She slapped his chest gently and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You know, if something happened to me…I think I’d want them to contact you, too. I barely see my family anymore. Thanksgivukkah was incredibly uncomfortable. But I don’t know how we’d go about changing that.”

            “Legally, it would be a process of transferring things like power of attorney – don’t give me that look, you _know_ I read up on this stuff – and a whole lot of other paperwork.” Jeff turned his head and looked down at the ground. “Or, well, there is something simpler.”

            Annie waited as he composed himself.

            “We could get a civil union.”

            She blinked in surprise. “A civil union? I thought you said they were blatantly unconstitutional?”

            “Well sure, as long as gay people can’t get married. But you don’t have to be a same-sex couple to get one. It would take care of all the other stuff with one form, make you my closest contact. Plus, we could file joint state income taxes, which would definitely help our financial situation.”

            Annie didn’t quite know what to think. Civil unions had always sounded so…civil. Entirely unromantic. Some mediocre watered-down version of an actual marriage, a paper document and not a lifelong commitment to share everything together.

            In other words, is was exactly the sort of thing Jeff Winger would want.

            “So,” he asked, “shall we sign one?”

            “Why not? Sure, let’s get…civil unionized? Civil united? How do we even say it?”

            “We don’t. Everyone will make a way bigger deal out of this than it is. _Especially_ Shirley.”

            “Right. It’s just the two of us, getting some legal protections. Not a big deal at all.” But Annie knew Jeff pretty well by now, and she knew that for someone like him, with the kind of baggage he carried around, it was a big deal indeed. And honestly, she wasn’t ready for anything more either. They’d only been dating a few months now, after all. Annie gave him another peck on the cheek before helping him to his feet and leading him to get his shoulder checked.

 

Britta had stayed at Duncan side the entire time he was being stitched up, holding his hand as he tried so very hard not to whimper, but bloody hell did it ever hurt. She’d suffered some scrapes herself, but the EMS team was focusing on serious injuries first.

            “Well, today’s been right bonkers so far, hasn’t it?” he remarked after the medics had left.

            Britta smiled. “And it’s not even noon yet.”

            “Is it really?” Duncan checked his watch and realized it had been broken in the cave-in. “Blast. I think I left my cell phone back in my office as well. Suppose they’ll be able to recover it?”

            “Put it on Subway’s bill.”

            “Along with my computer, my entire book collection, and several bottles of cabernet sauvignon – unopened, I might add!” Duncan huffed, but the exertion made his head hurt again and he winced.

            “Hey, don’t push yourself. Material possessions are replaceable.”

            “You clearly don’t understand the winemaking process,” he replied. “But…well, I am rather glad you and Jeff showed up when you did. A few minutes later and I would have been royally screwed.”

            “Just consider it payback for saving Rick and me that first day.”

            “All right then, we’re even.” Duncan smiled, a little uncertain how to deal with Britta doting on him this much. “I shall never be quite as brave as you in a real emergency, it would seem, but…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence, not with Britta still holding his hand and sitting this close.

            “When we hit the bars, I’ll make sure to emphasize the part where you pulled Jeff out with me and skip the fainting.”

            “That would be much appreciated. Though we won’t be going anywhere for a while, I wager.” He looked over to where Rick was being interviewed by the media at the edge of the medical area. The younger man kept glancing over at Britta to make sure she was all right, though Britta hadn’t noticed yet.

            She finally turned and gave Rick a little wave. Reassured, he kept his attention on the microphones and cameras jammed in his face. “Yeah,” Britta admitted, “Things are going to be a little crazy for a while. I heard some talk about hearings in Washington. Don’t know why we’d have to go the Pacific Northwest, is Subway headquartered there?”

            “I think they mean D.C.” Duncan pondered for a moment. “Well, if rumors are true and City College really lets you all take your classes there, they’ve a far superior online system than we do, and I believe you can finish your degree that way.”

            “Right. And then,” Britta took a deep breath. “I’m applying to a social work program at the University of Colorado. I think I’ll need a recommendation.”

            “Well, you have my number—wait, no you don’t, my cell phone’s been demolished.” Duncan dropped her hand and fumbled in his pocket until he found a pen and a crumpled receipt. Unfolding it, he began to scribble on it. “This is my home number and personal email. And if you and Rick _do_ decide to stick things out, by all means, I will want to see the real wedding. May it actually be completed this time around.”

            “We’ll see how that goes, I guess.” Britta twiddled with the piece of paper. “Actually…are you allergic to cats?”

            “I _was_ , miserably so, but my grandmother had a clutter of them and I received all the shots as a child. Quite a horrid experience, actually. But if you need a sitter, I would be willing to tolerate them.”

            “Thank you, Ian. For…everything.” Britta gave him a hug, and unlike their previous embraces, this one lasted more than a few seconds. He could feel her breath against his neck, and when she finally pulled away, there was an uncomfortable pause, and Britta looked as confused as him.

            But after a quick smile, she stood and walked away to join Rick, and the pain in his head started throbbing again, and Duncan’s mind returned to wondering whether anything from his office could be recovered. None of this felt real yet, and he still expected to wake up in his bed at any moment, the school still standing, his head unsplit, and Britta still calling him by his last name.

 

When Abed and Rachel slipped back into the crowd of students, splitting off from Shirley and Hickey to maintain a veneer of innocent non-involvement, Rachel noticed Abed shift gears. He’d been very stoic and stern since they’d left his apartment that morning, in a way that Rachel couldn’t help but find a bit sexy, in spite of knowing how Abed felt about those things. Now he was back to being normal Abed, adorable but slightly detached from what was going on. His attention was less on her or the robots, but on the cell phones that everyone had out.

            “Excuse me,” he said to the nearest person. “Did you record this?”

            The student gave him a dull look. “Uh, duh, of course I did.”

            “Cool. Cool cool cool. My name is Abed Nadir, here’s my card” (Abed had cards? Oh right, he’d tried professional filmmaking for a while, hadn’t he?) “send me any footage you have.”

            “Sure thing, man.”

            Abed continued his way through the crowd, handing out cards that he seemed to pull from every pocket of his shirt and pants. His supply must have been somewhat limited, because after a few dozen people he ran out of cards and began telling people to send the footage to his school email account.

            “What are you planning?” Rachel whispered to him as they wove their way through the throng.

            “Documentary,” Abed explained. “I’ve been waiting for inspiration to strike. This film would have everything: action, drama, romance, giant robots. It’s moviemaking gold.”

            “That’s actually a good idea. And as a student yourself, it’ll add extra interest to distributors.”

            “Exactly. But before I decide how much I want to exploit this tragedy, let’s check and see if our friends are okay.”

            They made their way to the medical area, where they quickly found Annie, still distributing bandages, ice, and cups of coffee to the injured. Britta was sitting next to Duncan, who was getting his head stitched. She seemed to be scraped up, but otherwise okay. Pavel, Cindy, Vicki, Neil, and most of the other students had thankfully not been on campus yet when the attack began. It was beginning to look like they’d miraculously suffered no fatalities in the catastrophe.

            That left one friend, and he found them before they found him. Jeff’s arm was in a sling, and he was holding an ice pack against his shoulder. “So where have you two been?”

            “Making strategy for Chang. It worked out pretty well.” Abed nodded towards Jeff’s shoulder. “What happened to you?”

            “War wounds from saving Duncan’s ass. It’s a long story. I’ve promised Annie I’ll tell her later, hang around so I only have to tell it once.” He glanced over to where Britta had just stood up after hugging Duncan. “Okay, Rachel, you’re the expert on all the romantic stuff, right?”

            “Romantic tropes, anyway.”

            “That works. If somebody suddenly starts using someone’s first name, out of nowhere, does that…mean something?”

            “Say My Name,” Abed declared immediately. They both followed Jeff’s line of sight. “Britta and Duncan…Do you think we should—”

            “No!” Rachel shouted. When they gawked at her uncharacteristic outburst, she sighed. “Listen, if I have learned anything out all this craziness, you can’t force a couple together with plot devices just because you might want it to happen.” She pointed to where Spreck was now being hauled into a police car, Pelton looking on sadly. “You have to let relationships develop naturally, out of real character interactions.” Here, she nodded at Jeff. “Even if,” and now she looked over to where Duncan was watching Britta go, “you totally didn’t expect to ever ship them when you started out working on your project.”

            “Project? What project?”

            “Just a little fourth-wall leaning, Jeff,” said Abed. “Rachel and I are allowed to do that. Don’t worry about Britta. She’s smart, she can handle herself.”

            “Yeah, I don’t want to push anything either, not until she’s graduated, because he’s still her professor, and that is all kinds of wrong. Plus, I’m not sure Ian’s going to stay on the straight and sober path. Still, it’s weird, I always thought she was out of his league.”

            “There are no leagues, Jeff,” Abed replied. “Just friendships, relationships, emotions. They’re complicated, sometimes clichéd, and I don’t always understand them, but that doesn’t mean they’re not important.”

            Jeff nodded slowly, them gestured behind him. “I should get back to Annie.”

            “Of course.” They watched him walk away.

            “We’re _not_ shipping them,” Rachel reemphasized.

            “Nope,” Abed agreed. “I am going to be _way_ too busy with my movie, anyway.”

 

And then there was Chang. He was stunned by the way everyone was treating him. He was lifted up bodily by the crowd, propped up on their shoulders, as people were cheering, clapping, beaming at him. Any pretense of media objectivity was thrown out the window, as he was unequivocally being declared the savior of Greendale, no, of Colorado, maybe even the entire country. News was already reporting that the information Rick had provided had led to the arrest of scores of CEOs and lobbyists, and the federal net was continuing to expand.

            “Congratulations!” Someone in the crowd yelled. They were joined by a chorus of other shouts, including “Chang for President!”

           His ego expanded, and he felt lightheaded. The little voice in the back of his mind started scheming about how he could use this to his advantage, maybe score some chicks and make his ex-wife jealous…

            _Can it_ , he thought back. _I did this ’cause_ ** _I_** _needed to do it. Because I’m better than I was before. Nobody is ever going to doubt me again._

            Chang grinned toothily and waved his hands with peace signs, and the multitudes loved it.

 

Along the coast, Troy could see lines of people gathering, colored banners waving behind them. Maybe it was a festival; India had a lot of those. Or maybe it was a political event. He could hear music carried on the breeze, but didn’t understand the words. It was all beautiful, in spite of that.

            His first instinct, after he woke up hungover in his hotel room, was to get on the first flight back to Colorado, to heck with Pierce’s inheritance. But as he watched the news, a weird kind of calm had come over him. He saw Chang get interviewed, smiling like a goofball, the dean making promises to keep classes going, and some guy who it took a while for him to place but then he remembered oh yeah it was that Subway guy who got with Britta and who he’d been kind of jealous of at the time because _he_ had wanted to get with Britta.

            His friends were handling things fine without him. That was a strange thing to experience. It was as if, in that moment, Troy realized that every person’s life was this whole universe that you only got to peek into a tiny corner of. And not just his friends – everyone he’d ever met. His boat would land, he’d meet people, but their lives had started long before he showed up and would go on long after he left. Troy was just a brief part of their story, just like they were a brief part of his.

            Which meant that he, Troy Barnes, also has his own universe, his own story. For so long, he’d thought of himself as the funny sidekick. Jeff, Abed, Annie – they were the people who made plans and got things done, he was just along for the ride.

            But now he realized that wasn’t true, or it didn’t have to be.

            So he didn’t go back to Greendale. He continued along the same path he and LeVar had decided on before the attack began. Because now, at last, he understood what Pierce had been trying to teach him by giving him this task.

            _Thanks, old dude,_ he thought, as the _Childish Tycoon_ swept past whatever was happening on land. Next stop was Calcutta, and the rest of his life.


	22. Happily Ever After (Epilogue)

The hearings before congress went on for weeks, with a large number amount of testimony from a vast range of witnesses. Rick spoke, of course, as did Spreck, but Chang wound up being the star of the show. His answers weren’t always _exactly_ on point, but he soon had an internet following of fans who considered him a big damn hero. He replaced Chuck Norris and Teddy Roosevelt as the memetic badass of choice.

            The moment Chang finished his testimony, he found himself confronted by two agents in suits and sunglasses. Fearing the worst, he almost bolted, but they flashed Defense Department credentials.

            “We’d like to offer you a job, Mr. Chang.”

            He peered at them suspiciously. “A job? What kind of job?”

            “We’ve seen the footage of you piloting that robot. Very impressive for your first time.”

            “The government has acquired Subway’s blueprints…we’re developing a more practical version of them for use in combat.”

            “And we would like you to be our first pilot.”

            “Really?” Chang was excited, but then a sneaky feeling came over him.

            “Wait,” he pointed at them accusingly. “Is this just because I’m Asian?”

 

Britta and the rest of the group were never called to testify, but she stayed in Washington with Rick anyway. It was a long process, but she remained by his side to the bitter end, biting down the urge to call out congress for the oligarchs they all really were. Seriously, it was them and their addiction to corporate money that caused this mess. Hopefully the masses would see this and finally wake up to what was going on in America.

            But when it was all over, or at least their involvement in it, Britta packed her things, said goodbye to Rick, and headed back to Colorado.

            On the plane ride to Denver, she opened _Intro to Social Work_ and began reading up for her first class that fall. She missed Noam and Chomsky, and as she glanced at the crinkly receipt she was using as her bookmark, she hoped that Duncan was doing a decent job watching them

            Because it had turned out the real love of her life was saving the world.

 

Duncan’s biggest fear during the months while Britta was gone was that her cats would up and die on him. She always chose the sickest, neediest animals, which was why she had such a high turnover rate in pets. She’d adopted these two about a year and a half ago, and any time they slept too soundly, he was certain they’d finally croaked.

            He also couldn’t remember which one was Noam and which one was Chomsky, and really, those were ridiculous names for cats. He dubbed one Dexter and the other Leftie, based on which eye they still had left. They were starting to respond to those names, and he didn’t think Britta would be pleased with that when she returned.

 

Abed finished his documentary _Robots Attack!_ by the end of the semester and premiered it for his friends at Jeff and Annie’s apartment. Everyone politely and supportively applauded and told him it was very good, except for Hickey, who bluntly declared “That sucked.”

            While the rest of the group was perturbed at his rudeness, Abed was relieved. He asked him what was wrong, and Hickey told him (“hyperactive editing, pointless gimmicky effects, it looks like something a teenager would make”) and using his advice and criticism, Abed spent another month remaking it, constantly checking with his one honest critic.

            That summer, the documentary _Subway’s Fall_ , co-directed by Abed Nadir and Buzz Hickey, hit the film festival circuit. This time, the applause was more than just polite.

 

With Subway restaurants going under all across the country, local sandwich stops were stepping in to take their place. Shirley was able to buy the buildings for the two Subway franchises in Greendale on the cheap, and began hiring back their workers. Annie helped her design banners reading _Shirley’s_ to drape over the old Subway logos until she had the money to come up with something more permanent.

            Running three stores meant Shirley spent more time away from the boys than she’d like, but Hickey stepped in to babysit on every occasion. Retirement was clearly leaving him bored. As she watched him with the boys, a thought occurred to Shirley.

            “You know,” she said one evening when she relieved him of his duties. “Maybe you should give making amends with your son another try. Your grandson’s going to be turning how old soon?”

            “That’s never gonna happen,” Hickey grumbled at her.

            But as he thought about what she’d said, he concluded that his son was a lost cause… but maybe his partner – husband, according to the state of Iowa, which Hickey supposed made him his son-in-law – might be willing to give him a second chance.

 

As Jeff had predicted back on Annie’s birthday, the Supreme Court of Colorado eventually ruled that barring same-sex couples from marriage was unconstitutional. What he _hadn’t_ predicted was that, to simplify the legal code, the legislature promptly passed bills eliminating civil unions altogether and automatically upgrading all existing civil unions to marriage status.

            The county clerk was baffled by the two people frantically begging at his window.

            “But we _want_ a civil union!” Jeff explained impatiently.

            “Please! We’re not…we’re not ready to be _married_.” Annie pleaded, giving him her doeist eyes.

            But apparently that didn’t work on him as well as it did on Jeff. “Look, I’m sorry, I know this is unexpected, but I can’t do anything about it. Take it up with your representatives. And if you really don’t want to be married, well, I can always get you started on the paperwork for a divorce.”

            As they sat side-by-side on a bench in the courthouse, both Jeff and Annie stared at the floor ahead of them, arms folded, unable to meet the other’s eyes.

            “Well,” Annie said at last. “When you think about it, the only thing that’s really changed is that now we can file joint _federal_ taxes.”

            “True,” Jeff agreed. There was a long pause again before he added, “We can _not_ tell anybody about this.”

            “No kidding.”

 

Pelton settled into his new role at Greendale City Community College (or G3C, as he liked to call it), taking up his role as vice-dean and director of student activities with great gusto. It had always been the bureaucratic side of things that he failed at. Keeping up school spirit, arranging events, and promoting the school for prospective students were much more his cup of lemon squeezie. Student retention increased, and the hostility between the two factions on campus faded further with every school dance.

 

And finally, after almost a year at sea, LeVar and Troy returned to America. They landed in California, and LeVar reunited with his family, introducing Troy to them. He also got to meet the rest of the _Star Trek: TNG_ cast, which was epic. Many selfies were taken that day.

            Troy continued the rest of the journey to Greendale by himself. When he arrived, the whole group came out to meet him, plus some people he’d never met before. He wasn’t sure when Duncan had become such an indispensable part of the group, but hey, things happen in the course of a year.

            “Dude, giant robots, guys? Wish I hadn’t missed that.”

            He shared with them all of his stories, from the pirates in the Gulf of Mexico, to this place called Shiretoko that they sailed past that was like literally nothing but cliffs and waterfalls. Plus, he gave Abed a photograph he’d taken with the _Star Trek_ cast, signed by all of them. His friend nearly passed out in joy.

            Troy and Rachel hit it off. They liked each other…a lot. Abed was a bit upset at first, worried his two friends wouldn’t need him anymore. Eventually, though, he realized that even though were close, it hadn’t change a bit how they felt about him. And besides, there was plenty of room at Hawthorne Manor for all three of them.

            But when Abed asked to move in, Troy surprised him by saying no. “Abed, I love you, for real, but I also kind of liked having my own life this past year. I want us to be Troy and Abed, not Trobed. I want to see you every day, but I have to be my own person. Does that make sense?”

            From the expression on his friend’s face, he could tell it didn’t. “Look, if you need a place to stay, Pierce’s estate has an awesome guest house. Want to be neighbors?”

            That arrangement worked beautifully. Rachel came over so often she finally took up occupancy at the guest house as well. Rumors spread throughout the town over the eccentric young millionaire living with a girlfriend _and_ a boyfriend. Their friends understood a little better that it was entirely possible for three people to be very much in love while having very little sex.

            But nobody completely got their weird little relationship.

            They were just jealous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading to the end. I’m still stunned I managed to finish this. It’s great to know I’m capable of completing something novel-length in under two months, while working part time and taking 12 credit hours. This story is mine, the characters and universe are Dan Harmon’s, but if you’re inspired to write spinoffs, go right ahead. I have a few story ideas that I didn't include in this that I may write as one-shots if you're interested. Let me know in the comments.  
> \- Thanksgiving Tweets  
> \- The St. Patrick's Day Camping Trip, as Narrated to Ian Duncan by Jeff Winger After Drinking Way Too Much  
> \- Shirley and Abed watch "Hellraiser" with Annie  
> And for my extremely enthusiastic Bruncan-shipping commenter, in thanks for your abundant praise, I may write an account of Britta wingwomaning for Duncan.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Drowning Our Romantic Sorrows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670795) by [Veldritch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldritch/pseuds/Veldritch)
  * [The Thanksgiving Tweets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605390) by [Veldritch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldritch/pseuds/Veldritch)




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